LYN  C  IT  S 
DAUGHTER 


LEONARD 
MERRICK 


FOWLKK'8 

Book.dl«.  *  Stttla 
Montgomery. 


o 


LYNCH'S   DAUGHTER 


Betty,  you  will  be  one  of  the  richest  girls  on  earth — kings 
and  queens  will  envy  you! 

[Page  250.] 


LYNCH'S   DAUGHTER 


BY 


LEONARD    MERRICK 


NEW   YORK 

THE    McCLURE    COMPANY 
MCMVIII 


Copyright ,  rpo8,   by  The  McCIure   Company 
Published,  October,   1908 


Copyright,  1907,  by  Leonard  Merrick 
Copyright,  1908,  by  The  Curtis  Publishing  Company 


STACK 
ANNEX 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

Betty,  you  will  be  one  of  the  richest  girls 
on  earth  —  kings  and  queens  will  envy 
you  !  Frontispiece 


FACING 
PAGE 


I  want  you  to  ask  me  to  be  your  wife.  12 

"  Here's  the  ring,"  she  muttered,  as  he  lagged 

back.  190 

"Yes,  madam,"  she  said  huskily.  218 

The  next  time  you  hope  to  cheat  a  woman 
because  she  hasn't  her  husband  with  her, 
don't  choose  an  American  !  280 


THE   HOUSE   OF   LYNCH 


THOUGH  he  had  resolved  to  avoid  her,  he  was  there 
after  all — they  were  sitting  in  the  conservatory. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  think  of  a  New  York  dinner 
dance,  Mr.  Keith?"  she  said.  She  bore  a  name  that 
stank  in  the  nostrils  of  the  world;  her  father  was 
the  devastating  trust  magnate,  the  debaucher  of 
politics,  the  infamous  multi-millionaire — Jordan  B. 
Lynch. 

"  Mrs.  Waldehast  is  giving  me  a  novel  experience 
— one  more." 

"  Is  it  so  different  from  what  you  call  '  small-and- 
earlies  '  in  England?  " 

"  I  haven't  been  to  many;  I'm  not  a  Society  per- 
sonage, Miss  Lynch." 

"  Artists  don't  think  much  of  Society,  do  they?  " 

"  Some  think  of  it  more  than  they  do  of  art.  I 
don't  mean  your  artists  here,  of  course, — I  don't 
know  enough  about  them, — I  mean  our  swells  at 
home." 

"  I've  never  grasped  the  distinction  between  your 

3 


4  THE    HOUSE   OF   LYNCH 

'  swells  '  and  our  '  dudes  ' — I'm  not  sure  if  I  know 

what  a  swell  is." 

"  Well,  I'm  probably  the  only  person  you  know 
who  isn't  one." 

"«Mr.  Keith,"  exclaimed  the  girl,  "  why  will  you 
always  address  me  as  if  we  were  residing  in  different 
planets?  " 

"  Merely  because  we  are.  Mrs.  Waldehast  has 
been  wonderfully  nice  to  me;  but  this  is  the  only 
smart  house  I  have  been  to  in  New  York,  and  I 
should  never  have  met  you  at  any  mutual  friend's 
in  London."  He  hesitated,  and  then,  as  she  gave 
no  sign  of  understanding  him,  went  on,  "  It's  quite 
as  caddish  to  harp  on  one's  pecuniary  drawbacks  as 
on  one's  pecuniary  advantages,  but  you  may  have 
gathered  by  this  time  that — er — that  I — that " 

"  I  have  '  gathered,'  "  she  smiled. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Keith.  "  I  might  have  known 
your  intelligence  couldn't  fail." 

"  Well?  " 

"  That's  all.  Excepting  that  I'm  afraid  I  have 
not  always  addressed  you  quite  as  you  say.  You  see 
you  come  here  a  great  deal,  and  so  do  I,  and  I've 
almost  forgotten  things  in  moments." 

"  Well,  forget  them  now,  please.  Do  you  know 
I  think  you're  horrid — I  ask  you  to  talk,  and  you 
just  speak! " 


THE    HOUSE    OF   LYNCH  5 

"  You're  very  kind.  What  do  you  ask  me  to  talk 
about? " 

."  Well,  what  did  you  talk  about  to  your  friends?  " 
He  laughed.  "  Oh,  on  the  planet  that  I  mustn't 
remember,  we  talk  about  our  difficulties  when  we 
aren't  romancing  about  our  prices.  To  you,  Miss 
Lynch,  we  should  talk  Greek.  The  dominant  ad- 
jective is  '  hard  up/  ' 

"  But  you  have  some  good  times?  " 
"  Oh  yes.  At  our  swaggerest  functions — those 
given  by  fellows  who  have  more  than  one  room — 
men  even  bring  their  wives.  And  the  wives  bring 
the  babies,  and  put  them  to  sleep  on  the  host's  bed. 
They  don't  keep  a  nurse,  and  they  couldn't  leave 
the  babies  behind  alone.  Some  of  the  Greek?  " 

She  denied  it  radiantly:  "  No,  that  is  rather  hu- 
morous." 

"  Y-e-s;  I'm  told  the  humour  soon  wears  thin." 
"  Well,  I'm  very  glad  that  Dardy  saw  that  picture 
of  yours  when  she  was  in  London — she's  enthusiastic 
about  your  portrait  of  her!  So  am  I;  it's  splendid. 
You  know,  she  wondered  whether  you'd  come  over 
when  Mr.  Waldehast  wrote — she  didn't  know  but 
what  it  was  a  lot  to  ask." 

"  It's  a  very  usual  thing  to  ask.  And  it  isn't  always 
as  complimentary  as  we  want  to  think.  A  woman  often 
sees  a  half-length  somewhere,  and  sends  the  man  a 


6  THE    HOUSE    OF   LYNCH 

commission,  because  she  appreciated — his  model.  Lots 
of  our  men  come  over  to  paint  people  they  have  never 
seen.  It's  rather  a  nervous  journey." 

"  Why,  yes,  I  suppose  so — the  people  may  be  per- 
fectly hideous.  You  must  have  been  glad  to  see 
Dardy?  " 

"  I  was.  The  best  thing  to  be  said  of  portrait 
painting,  as  a  rule,  is  that  it's  the  only  education  . 
anybody  is  paid  to  take — it  teaches  you  to  search 
for  individuality.  A  portrait  isn't  made  by  paint- 
ing features — you  have  to  paint  the  character  behind 
them." 

"  Not  everyone  would  say  '  thank  you  *  for  that," 
she  remarked. 

"  Quite  so — and  not  everyone  would  be  satisfied 
with  my  portrait  of  him.  But  it  doesn't  matter, 
because  I  don't  want  to  paint  portraits.  It's  awful 
work!  A  portrait  painter,  nine  times  out  of  ten, 
has  to  choose  between  being  an  artist  and  a  cour- 
tier." 

"  I  think  you'd  be  very  unwise  to  talk  like  that," 
she  said  sharply;  "it's  bad  business!  I've  told  you 
so  before." 

"  Yes,  I  know."  He  flushed.  "  I  suppose  I'm  not 
a  business  man.  It  was  stupid  of  me  to  say  it." 

"  No,  you're  not  to  think  that;  you'll  take  that 
back,  please!  It's  how  I  want  you  to  talk — to  me 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  7 

— as  you  really  feel!  But  I  do  caution  you  against 
talking  like  it  to  other  people.  You  ought  to  make 
a  heap  of  dollars  in  New  York  if  you're  smart." 

"  Oh,  I  shouldn't  have  declined  any  commissions 
just  now — in  fact,  I've  stayed  on  here  in  the  hope  of 
getting  some." 

"  You  did  decline  one,"  she  said;  "  I  asked  you  to 
paint  me,  and  you  made  excuses.  Was  that  the  rea- 
son— you  thought  I'd  want  you  to  be  a  courtier?  " 

"  I  think  I  begged  you  to  let  me  paint  you,  didn't 
I?  I  was  very  eager  to." 

"  You  offered  to  make  a  sketch  of  me  as  a  gift — 
that  wasn't  what  I  wanted.  Anyhow,  whether  you 
hate  portraits  or  not,  you  ought  to  pretend  to  gush 
about  them.  Dardy's  picture  should  do  you  good 
here  if  you  take  the  right  tone.  You  know,  Mr. 
Keith,  I'm  ages  older  than  you." 

"  Yes.  I'm  thirty-three;  I  suppose  you're  twenty." 

"  It's  sweet  of  you,  but  I'm  more.  And  I  didn't 

mean  in  years,  I  meant  in Well,  you  know  what 

I  meant.  Do  you  think  I'm  horribly  worldly,  Mr. 
Keith?" 

"  Am  I  meant  to  tell  you  the  truth?  " 

"  Right  away!  I  can  suffer." 

'  Then  you've  amazed  me,  in  moments,  by  your 
umvorldliness.  That  was  what  interested  me — you 
were  so  unlike  what  I  thought  you  would  be." 


8  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

"What  was  that?" 

"  I  thought  what  a  fraud  it  was  that  you  had  such 
a — such  a — I'm  bound  to  be  blatant — such  a  beauti- 
ful face,  for  I  didn't  for  an  instant  suppose  that  you 
would  have  a  beautiful  mind/' 

"  You  are  different  from  the  others,"  she  mur- 
mured. "  And  don't  you  think  it  a  fraud  any  more?  " 

"  No." 

"Do  go  ahead!" 

"  I  only  think  it  a  pity  that  your  life  doesn't  give 
a  chance  to  your  soul." 

Her  eyes  were  attentive,  puzzled.  "  Religion? " 
she  hazarded. 

"  The  religion  of  '  one  who  loves  his  fellow-men.' 
I  think  that  everybody  ought  to  do  all  he  can  for 
humanity.  Of  course  the  influence  of  most  of  us 
doesn't  show  outside  our  homes,  but  wealth  is  a  wide 
power,  and  art  is  a  wide  power — the  painter  speaks 
in  every  language — I  don't  think  one  is  entitled  to 
fritter  away  either  one's  wealth  or  one's  art."  His 
voice  gained  courage.  "  You  just  lectured  me  for 
saying  I  didn't  want  to  go  on  with  portraits;  I  don't 
want  to  go  on  with  them,  because  I  hope  and  pray 
that  it's  in  me  to  paint  something  that  will  say 
more." 

"  You  told  me  the  other  day  you  were  '  delighted  ' 
when  you  got  Mr.  Waldehast's  letter?  " 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  9 

"  I  was  delighted  because  the  commission  was  a 
valuable  one.  And  I've  done  my  best  to  deserve  it; 
I  put  in  as  much  work  as  Mrs.  Waldehast  would  al- 
low— and  a  good  deal  more  than  would  have  been 
discreet  if  she  weren't  a  very  patient  woman — or  at 
least  a  very  amiable  one.  But  a  portrait's  interest 
is  generally  limited  to  the  domestic  circle  and  to 
other  artists.  Technic  alone  never  made  a  great 
work  of  art.  The  goal  of  art  is  the  soul  of  the  world 
— the  highest  art  illumines  a  more  inspiring  truth 
than  the  character  of  Mr.  So-and-so." 
"  What  kind  of  pictures  do  you  do?  " 
"  I  like  the  symbolic  school  best,  but  any  subject 
that  uplifts  is  a  great  one." 

"  Supposing  they  don't  pay  so  well  as  Mr.  So-and- 
so?  That's  possible,  isn't  it?  " 

"  It's  much  more  than  possible;  but  my  chief  aim 
isn't  to  make  money.  The  point  is,  that  whatever 
advantages  anyone  may  have  ought  to  be  directed 
to  the  noblest  ends.  It  doesn't  matter  what  one's 
medium  is — whether  one  is  a  painter,  or  a  priest,  or 
a  statesman,  or  a  private  citizen — one  ought  to  put 
forth  one's  best  for  the  benefit  of  one's  country. 
That's  one's  duty  to  one's  country!  It's  possible  also 
that  I  may  prove  to  have  nothing  but  the  ideal, 
that  the  force  mayn't  be  there.  I  daresay  I  sounded 
vain — you  wouldn't  think  me  vain  if  you  knew  how 


io  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

frightfully  I  distrust  myself;  I  often  think  that  any- 
body on  earth  could  paint  as  well  as  I  do  if  he 
took  as  much  pains.  I've  no  facility;  other  men  can 
knock  things  off  in  a  day  that  take  me  a  week.  I 
may  fail — and  I  shall  be  wretched,  because  I  know 
that,  with  me,  it's  art  first  and  patriotism  afterwards; 
but  I  shall  have  been  a  good  Englishman  for  all 
that.  And  I'd  rather  fail  by  being  true  to  my  con- 
science than  make  a  popular  success  by  being  false. 
Am  I  a  bore?  " 

"  No,  but  I  haven't  climbed  up  there  yet." 

"  I'm  grateful  you  didn't  pretend  that  you  had. 
It's  where  most  people  either  lie  or  laugh." 

She  frowned.  "  Do  you  confide  in  most  peo- 
ple? " 

"  I  never  confided  in  any  other  woman  in  my  life 
— and  in  very  few  men." 

"  Oh,"  her  glance  approved;  "  I'll  get  there  in 
time!  You  shall  talk  to  me  about  it  again." 

"  I'm  afraid  I  shan't  have  the  chance;  I  was  going 
to  tell  you — I'm  going  back  sooner  than  I  in- 
tended." 

"  Why?  "  It  was  uttered  a  second  late,  but  the 
tone  was  faultless. 

"  I  think  it  would  be  as  well." 

"  Surely  New  York  is  the  place  for  you  to  be  in 
just  now?  " 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  n 

"  I  think  on  the  whole  it  would  be  as  well  to  go 
back,"  he  said. 

"  I'm  sorry  you  have  to  go." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Keith  in  his  throat.  "  7'm  very 
sorry,  but  I  must.  I  shall  often  think  of  my  trip  to 
America." 

After  the  least  pause,  she  said  reproachfully,  "  I 
hope  the  prospect  is  a  very  brilliant  one?  Of  course 
if  your  business  is  so  urgent,  you  can't  be  expected 
to  neglect  it  for  the  sake  of  your  friends." 

"  I'm  not  leaving  for  business  reasons,"  he  ac- 
knowledged. 

"  Is  there  someone  in  England  who's  so  sweet  that 
you  can't  bear  to  be  away  from  her?  " 

"  I  think  that  you  know  there  isn't." 

Her  head  was  bent;  she  tapped  time  with  her  fan 
to  the  waltz  of  "  Sammy  "  in  the  ballroom. 

"  If  you  aren't  running  after  a  girl,  I  guess  you 
must  be  running  away  from  one?  .  .  .  Isn't  that 
weak?" 

"  No — necessary.  It's  quite  impossible  that  I 
could  ever  marry  that  girl,  and  I've  got  to  recon- 
cile myself  to  the  fact;  I  should  never  reconcile  my- 
self to  it  while  I  went  on  seeing  her.  I  can't  afford 
to  feel  as  I've  been  feeling  lately — I've  got  my  work 
to  think  about.  So  the  sooner  I  go  the  better.  I'm 
not  sacrificing  any  chance  by  going — don't  imagine 


12  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

that! — no  frenzied  admirers  of  my  work  will  miss 

me." 

"  Perhaps  the  girl  will  miss  you,  though,"  sug- 
gested Miss  Lynch. 

"  I  haven't  the  conceit  to  think  so;  I  don't  want 
to  think  so." 

The  pearls  and  lilies  on  her  breast  rose  faster.  "If 
I  were  you  I  would!  " 

"  It's  out  of  the  question  for  me  to  propose  to 
her,  or  to  say  that  I  care  for  her,"  he  insisted  thickly. 

"  If  she  likes  you,  she  won't  think  it  out  of  the 
question.  .  .  .  Aren't  you  going  to  tell  me  who  it 
is  you're  running  away  from?  " 

He  didn't  speak.  His  mouth  was  set  hard. 

"  Is  it  me?  "  she  whispered. 

"  Yes." 

She  raised  her  head  and  looked  at  him.  There  was 
nearly  a  line  of  "  Sammy  "  before  her  voice  came — 

"  Mr.  Keith,  I  have  been  called  the  *  proudest  girl 
in  New  York/  but  I'm  going  to  say  an  immodest 
thing  right  here."  The  lips  trembled,  and  he  saw  the 
throbbing  of  her  throat.  "  I  want  you  to  ask  me  to 
be  your  wife." 

He  grabbed  both  her  hands  and  bowed  his  face 
on  them.  "  I  can't!  "  he  said. 

"You've  got  to."  She  smiled  victoriously.  "  Betty 
Lynch  doesn't  let  her  millions  spoil  her  happiness." 


I  want  you  to  ask  me  to  be  your  wife 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  13 

"  You  don't  understand.  I  can't,  it's  impossible!  " 

"  You're  not — married?  " 

"Married?  No!  But  I  couldn't  give  you  a  home 
that  you'd  live  in." 

"  And  I  don't  let  your  foolishness  spoil  my  hap- 
piness either,  that's  just  why  I  said  what  I  did!  We 
need  not  be  anxious  about  the  home." 

"I  couldn't  stand  that,  I  wouldn't  do  it!" 

"  I  fear  I  have  proposed  to  you,"  she  mur- 
mured, dimpling.  "  It  would  be  too  bad  if  I  were 
refused." 

"Oh,  my  dear,"  said  Keith  desperately,  "  I  hon- 
our and  adore  you  for  what  you  said!  I'd  give 
twenty  years  of  my  life  to  marry  you.  But  I  can't. 
To  begin  with,  your  father  would,  of  course,  forbid 
the  engagement." 

"  My  father  would  never  forbid  me  anything." 

"  Then  he  would  give  you  a  million  or  so,  and  I 
should  be  asked  to  share  it.  And  I  couldn't! " 

She  drew  her  hands  free.  "  Do  you  mean,"  she 
said  coldly,  "  that  you  would  rather  give  me  up  than 
swallow  your  pride?  I  swallowed  some  for  you  just 
now." 

"It  isn't  a  question  of  'pride';  I'd  put  pride  in 
the  gutter  for  you." 

"What  else  is  it?  It  isn't  love.  I  don't  admire  it. 
It's  talking  like  a  man  in  a  book." 


14  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

"  Don't !  "  stammered  Keith.  "  If  you  knew  what 
I'm  feeling! " 

"  I  think  I  do  know — you  feel  more  esteem  for 
yourself  than  for  me.  No  man  who  was  really  fond 
of  a  girl  would  consent  to  lose  her  because  she  had 
more  dollars  than  he  had.  Not  if  she  were  as  rich 
as  I,  and  he  were  as  poor  as  a  tramp!  No,  human 
nature  doesn't  do  those  things.  If  he  were  without 
a  meal,  if  he  hadn't  a  cent  in  his  pocket  or  shoes  to 
his  feet,  and  she  said  what  /  have  said  to  you,  he 
would  try  his  best  to  marry  her  if  he  loved  her.  It 
would  be  his  duty,  and  her  due." 

"  And  so  would  I,"  gasped  Keith,  "  if  that  were 
all!" 

"  If  it  were  '  all '  ?  "  Her  startled  eyes  widened 
at  him  pitiably,  she  turned  dead-white.  "  Oh !  you 
mean  you  .  .  .  don't  approve  of  my  father's  meth- 
ods? You  mean  you  would  think  it  ...  a  dis- 
grace? " 

"  For  Heaven's  sake!  I  couldn't  live  on  his 
money,  leave  it  at  that!  I  can't  talk  about  it.  But 
I  love  you,  I  love  you,  Betty." 

"  Love?  You  have  thrown  my  father's  reputation 
in  my  face,  you  have  told  me  I  am  too  dishonest 
for  you." 

"You?  You?  Oh,  my  darling — the  money,  not 
you!" 


THE    HOUSE    OF   LYNCH  15 

"  It  is  the  money  that  keeps  me,"  she  said  pain- 
fully. "  Oh,  I  know  what  they  say  about  the  Trust — 
I  read!  I  hear  of  the  people  ruined,  and  the  broken 
homes,  and — and  it  doesn't  make  me  feel  good  when 
I  think  about  it.  But  I  spend  such  money.  It  is 
the  money  that  buys  my  frocks,  and  candies,  and 
flowers;  it  is  the  money  that  pays  for  the  food  I 
eat  and  the  house  I  live  in.  If  you  care  for  me  as 
you  wish  me  to  believe,  and  yet  would  rather  lose 
me  than  let  my  father  make  us  happy,  then  you  are 
telling  me  the  money  is  so  shameful  that  I  am  a  thief 
to  take  it." 

"  I  tell  you  I  adore  you.  I  want  you  as  I  never 
wanted  anything  else  on  earth.  I  don't  reproach  you, 
I  don't,  I  don't!  You  were  brought  up  to  take  it,  and 
— and,  besides,  what  else  could  you  have  done?  But 
/'m  different — I'm  used  to  roughing  it,  and  I've  got 
my  work — and  if  I  were  weak  enough  to  profit  by  a 
tyranny  that  has  horrified  and  revolted  me  ever  since 
I  understood  what  it  meant,  I  should  be  a  cur,  and 
our  '  happiness '  would  be  no  happiness,  it  would  be 
hell." 

Miss  Lynch  rose  haughtily.  "  I  had  thought  that 
to  say  to  any  man  what  7  have  said  must  be  as  great 
a  humiliation  as  a  girl  could  know;  my  affront  to 
myself  is  bearable  compared  with  the  indignities  I  have 
suffered  from  you" 


16  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

"  Betty,"  he  cried,  "  my  whole  income  in  a  lucky 
year  hasn't  been  half  of  what  you  spent  on  the  candies 
and  the  flowers;  but  I'm  getting  on,  I'll  do  better  for 
you  one  day  if  you'll  only  be  patient,  and  I  love  you, 
I  love  you,  you  might  wipe  your  boots  on  my  heart! 
You  may  think  me  a  madman  for  asking,  but  I'd 
worship  you — will  you  marry  me  on  what  I've  got?  " 
"  Mr.  Keith,  you  will  please  take  me  back  to  the 
room,"  she  said. 


II 

IN  his  palace  in  Fifth  Avenue,  in  his  splendid  study 
lined  with  books,  none  of  which  he  had  ever  read,  an 
old  man  sat  awaiting  Betty's  return  from  the  dance. 
This  was  Jordan  B.  Lynch.  He  had  struggled  as 
"  Bill  Lynch."  Towards  middle  age  he  had  adopted 
the  "  Jordan  "  and  curtailed  the  "  Bill." 

He  bent  smoking  moodily  over  the  fire.  It  was 
nearly  midnight,  and  a  desk  in  the  room  was  heaped 
with  the  letters  that  had  come  to  his  private  address 
during  the  day.  There  were  desperate  letters  from 
men  whom  the  Trust  and  its  radiating  forces  had 
broken;  frantic  entreaties  from  destitute  women  and 
girls  whose  husbands,  or  fathers,  or  brothers  his 
operations  had  decoyed  to  disgrace  or  death;  indict- 
ments from  philanthropists,  warnings  from  clergymen, 
who  threatened  his  rapacity  with  Heaven's  wrath. 
Lynch,  however,  had  not  opened  any  of  the  letters, 
nor  would  any  of  them  be  laid  before  him. 

At  the  beginning  such  things  had  disturbed  him. 
Later  they  had  angered  him.  It  was  the  law  of  na- 

17 


i8  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

ture  for  the  weak  to  suffer;  why  abuse  him  for  it? 
he  demanded.  Finally,  they  had  come  to  minister  to 
his  pride.  These  daily  budgets  of  appeals  for  mercy, 
these  admonitions  overflowing  the  wastepaper-baskets 
were  an  emblem  of  his  conquest;  they  testified  to  the 
triumph  of  his  career,  more  than  his  magnificent 
library  that  had  no  literary  interest  for  him,  and  his 
famous  pictures  that  he  never  looked  at.  As  a  burden 
on  indigent  parents  in  the  black  country,  he  had 
been  a  wage-earner  as  a  child;  as  an  emigrant  he  had 
been  tortured  by  the  sight  of  small  chances  that 
he  was  too  poor  to  seize.  He  had  hoarded,  scraped, 
stinted  his  stomach  for  years — and  been  robbed  of 
his  first  five  hundred  dollars.  He  had  rinsed  glasses 
behind  a  bar  on  a  Mississippi  steamer,  had  wrung  a 
bare  living  from  the  earth  in  California;  had  planned, 
climbed,  fallen;  set  his  teeth  and  sweated;  climbed 
again;  prospected,  speculated,  taken,  with  undaunted 
eyes,  the  risk  of  being  dashed  to  the  bottom  once 
more.  And,  by  the  grace  of  grit,  he  was  Jordan  B. 
Lynch,  who  had  the  world  by  its  throat — and  the 
world  might  squeak! 

Poverty  prolonged — grim,  gaunt,  grinding  poverty 
— brutalises.  Of  all  the  cant  acclaimed,  none  is  rot- 
tener  than  the  pretence  that  poverty  ennobles  char- 
acter. 

But  to-night,  as  he  bent  smoking  over  the  fire,  the 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  19 

weazen  old  man  was  not  thinking  of  his  conquest,  he 
was  thinking  of  his  children. 

He  had  been  fifty  when  he  married,  already  a  men- 
ace to  two  continents;  and  when  a  son  came,  the  pi- 
ratical financier  who  hewed  his  road  through  the  mis- 
fortunes of  a  multitude  had  taken  an  innocent  delight 
in  providing  for  his  boy  a  plenitude  of  the  pleasures 
that  he  himself  had  missed.  It  was  the  father's  caprice, 
not  the  mother's,  that  converted  a  spacious  nursery 
into  a  range  of  mountains,  on  which  bears,  formidable 
in  real  bearskin,  roamed  as  large  as  life  after  one 
turned  keys  in  them.  Jordan  B.  Lynch's  little  heir, 
with  a  pop-gun,  was  entertained  for  an  hour  by  try- 
ing to  hit  them  before  their  clockwork  ran  down.  Of 
course  there  were  other  nurseries.  One  of  them  con- 
tained an  electrical  boat  which  carried  the  listless  child 
across  a  painted  sea,  while  he  tossed  blunted  spears  at 
mechanical  whales. 

The  boy  had  been  bored  very  young,  but  to  the  man 
the  view  of  such  follies  had  yielded  a  permanent  sat- 
isfaction— his  own  bitter  childhood,  which  he  had 
always  remembered  with  resentment,  ceased  to  chafe 
him  like  a  bad  debt.  The  advent  of  a  daughter  had 
been  a  disappointment,  for  he  had  wanted  another  son ; 
but  after  the  death  of  his  wife  it  was  Betty  who  be- 
came the  dearer  child.  At  first  she  charmed  him  more 
because  she  resembled  her  mother ;  it  gratified  him  that 


20  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

his  girl  looked  of  gentle  birth.  Howard's  features  were 
rough-cast,  like  his  own.  Later  she  was  his  favourite 
because  she  showed  him  the  more  affection.  To  his 
daughter  his  profusion  was  even  more  ebullient  than 
to  his  son. 

Yet  he  never  said  "  no  "  to  the  boy.  His  children 
must  have  everything — the  luxury,  the  education,  the 
fun  that  had  been  withheld  from  him!  Even  because 
his  own  youth  had  been  so  sordid,  he  found  a  covert 
fascination  in  their  extravagance.  When  he  saw  the 
bills,  he  smiled  wryly,  recalling  the  ferocity  of  life  to 
himself  at  their  age.  The  secretaries  who  corrected  his 
English  had  been  much  diverted  to  see  the  financial 
leader  engrossed  by  the  lad's  first  dress  suit;  Lynch 
was  reflecting  that  the  first  dress  suit  he  had  put  on 
himself  had  been  ordered  when  he  was  forty. 

In  his  commercial  aspect,  corrupt  and  ruthless,  he 
was  a  tender  father ;  and  a  genius  in  finance,  he  lacked 
foresight  in  his  home.  He  had  lived  to  deplore  his 
indulgence  of  Howard,  with  the  quintessence  of  re- 
morse which  many,  who  are  untroubled  by  a  sin,  may 
suffer  for  a  stupidity.  The  drollery  of  having  a  man  of 
fashion  for  a  son  had  long  ceased  to  tickle  the  old 
adventurer.  The  denseness  of  Lynch  junior  to  the  fi- 
nancial alphabet  was  a  prank  of  nature's — neither  of 
them  was  to  be  blamed  for  that,  continuously  galling 
as  the  senior  found  it ;  the  uppishness  might  pass ;  the 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  21 

blank  deficiency  of  purpose  might  have  permitted  op- 
timism in  a  parent.  But  Lynch  had  docketed  his  son 
"  worthless  "  when  he  realised  that  the  young  man  dis- 
sipated without  zest;  a  profligacy  of  vehemence  would 
have  left  hope  of  reform,  a  profligacy  of  lassitude  left 
none. 

He  had  made  no  illusions  for  himself — the  crowd 
who  justly  reviled  him  would  have  been  glad  to  read 
his  thoughts — his  only  son  was  a  failure!  But  there 
had  remained  Betty — Betty,  whose  Fifth  Avenue  tone 
was  the  only  music  he  appreciated — his  girl,  who  wore 
her  frocks  like  one  of  the  Four  Hundred !  The  surviv- 
ing ambitions  of  his  fatherhood  were  absorbed  by  her. 
He  had  hoped  to  see  her  bearing  a  great  name,  had 
dreamed  of  it.  He  would  give  her  to  no  illustrious 
pauper  who  meant  to  scatter  her  millions  and  neglect 
her;  she  should  choose  a  noble  who  was  rich  already, 
one  who  would  love  her  honestly,  and  whom  she'd 
love.  He  had  imagined  the  ancestral  home,  the  crest 
on  her  carriage,  a  score  of  childish  details  that  were 
sweet  to  picture  because  they  meant  the  exaltation  of 
Betty.  And  now  Betty  had  as  good  as  told  him  she 
was  fond  of  some  artist! 

The  street  bell  sounded,  and  Lynch  opened  the  study 
door,  in  the  thought  that  the  girl  had  returned ;  but  it 
was  Howard  who  had  rung,  having  forgotten  his 
latchkey. 


22  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

"  Hello,"  he  said  languidly,  seeing  Lynch  still  up, 
"you're  late!" 

"  Hello,"  said  Lynch,  "  you  re  early!  " 

It  was  the  first  time  they  had  met  that  day. 

"  I  know ;  why  haven't  you  turned  in?  " 

"  I'm  waiting  for  Betty." 

"Where's  she  gone?" 

"  The  Waldehasts'.  She  expected  you  to  take  her." 

"  Me?  I  never  said  I'd  go,  did  I?  "  He  lounged  into 
the  room,  and  lit  a  cigarette.  Though  he  took  infinite 
pains  in  dressing  himself,  he  did  no  credit  to  his  tailor ; 
and  the  fashion  which  ordained  that  his  sandy  hair 
should  be  parted  in  the  centre  and  plastered  behind  his 
projecting  ears  was  not  becoming  to  him.  "  What's 
the  news  ?  " 

"  W-e-11,  there  is  the  news  of  your  *  pastoral  dinner ' 
last  night,"  snarled  Lynch. 

"  Oh  ?  "  He  put  his  hands  in  his  trouser-pockets  and 
smiled  impudently  over  his  father's  head. 

"  I  see  that  the  restaurant  was  '  converted  into  a 
meadow.' ' 

"  The  likeness  wasn't  very  faithful,  but  that  was  the 
notion,"  drawled  the  young  man. 

"  The  Herald  says  *  a  rivulet  of  champagne  sparkled 
between  banks  of  orchids.' ' 

"  I  hope  the  Day  was  just  as  picturesque.  I  never 
read  it,  but  I  have  a  filial  interest  in  its  circulation." 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  23 

"  You're  very  humorous,"  said  Lynch,  "  very  Har- 
vardy  and  brilliant!  Is  it  indispensable  at  dinner  in 
your  set  for  the  ladies  to  '  pick  diamonds  from  a 
strawberry  bed,  as  souvenirs  '  ?  " 

"  No.  That  was  an  innovation  of  my  own." 

"  It  was  a  great  scheme !  " 

"So  7  thought.  They  did  scramble !  I  saw  all  the 
frenzy  of  a  bargain-sale  without  being  damaged  by 
the  crush." 

"  You  might  have  done  so  if  you  had  been  earning 
ten  dollars  a  week  behind  a  counter !  "  said  his  father 
acridly. 

"  Ah,"  Howard  looked  disconcerted ;  "  your  repartee 
— if  I  may  mention  it,  sir — is  vulgar." 

He  mixed  a  generous  whisky-and-soda,  and  there 
was  a  long  silence.  Lynch  blinked  at  the  fire,  mourn- 
ing mistakes. 

Warmed  by  the  whisky,  Howard  grew  facetious. 
"  Buck  up,"  he  murmured.  "  I  haven't  broken  you." 

"  You  have  not  broken  me — in  dollars." 

"  What  ?  Oh,  in  hopes.  Don't  be  sentimental,  gov- 
ernor; it  doesn't  suit  you.  Take  it  easy!  If  you  knew 
how  deadly  dull  life  is,  you  wouldn't  rag  a  fellow 
for  trying  to  get  a  gleam  of  fun.  Anyhow,  I  see  you 
gave  half  a  million  to  the  Nixonville  Institute  this 
week ;  if  you  can  afford  Institutes,  you  can  spare  me  a 
dinner." 


24  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

"  My  charities  do  good— to  me,  they  are  policy." 

"  Well,  it  does  you  good  that  I  make  a  few  debts. 
If  7  spend  it  while  you  scoop  it,  people  won't  have  so 
much  to  howl  about.  That's  policy  too!  You  don't  do 
my  brains  justice,  you  know.  My  schemes  are  subtle; 
you  want  to  think  'em  out.  You  ought  to  charge  the 
dinner  to  your  charity  account !  "  He  giggled.  "  I  take 
Roosevelt's  point  of  view;  he  doesn't  approve  of  for- 
tunes '  swollen  beyond  healthy  limits.'  Nor  do  I — I'm 
doing  my  best  to  cope  with  a  national  evil." 

He  emptied  his  glass,  and  sauntered  towards  the 
door  with  a  nod.  "  Good-night." 

"  Good-night,"  grunted  Lynch.  He  hesitated.  "  Say, 
Howard !  D'ye  know  anything  of  that  fellow  Keith  ?  " 

"Keith?" 

"  That  artist  that  Betty  asked  to  the  house?  He  was 
unable  to  come,  but  I  have  heard  her  speak  about  him." 

"  Oh !  No ;  I've  only  seen  him  once.  /  don't  meet 
him — he's  nothing,  he's  an  artist,  he's  staying  in  a 
boarding-house. " 

"Is  that  so?" 

"  He  mentioned  it  himself  at  the  Waldehasts' ; 
didn't  seem  ashamed  of  it,  either — doesn't  '  know,'  I 
suppose.  Why  ?  " 

"  Well,  Betty  is  interested  in  him.  I  wondered  why 
she  had  asked  him  home,  and  I  taxed  her  with  it." 

"  What  ?  Do  you  mean  she Oh,  rats !  She  may 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  25 

have  flirted  with  him — he's  all  right  to  look  at,  except 
for  his  clothes;  she  wouldn't  understand  about  them." 

"  Well — I  guess  you  are  correct,"  said  Lynch,  see- 
ing that  there  was  nothing  to  be  learnt.  "  Good-night." 

It  was  a  long  while  before  Betty  came  in.  As  she 
crossed  the  room  she  was  almost  as  pale  as  she  had 
been  when  Keith's  meaning  broke  upon  her,  and  the 
look  in  her  eyes  puzzled  the  old  man.  But  his  tone  was 
innocent. 

"  Well  ?  Had  a  good  time,  poppet  ?  " 

"  I'm  very  tired,  father,"  she  said  in  a  strained 
voice.  "  I'm  going  right  upstairs." 

"  I  have  been  saving  my  last  cigar  to  smoke  with 
you.  Can't  you  spare  me  five  minutes  ?  " 

She  stood  by  the  mantelpiece,  a  hand  clenched  on  the 
marble :  "  I  have  nothing  to  say  to-night." 

"  Howard  claims  that  he  never  promised  to  take  you 
— he  came  in  a  while  ago." 

"Oh?" 

"  Anybody  there  ?  Your  friend  was  there,  I  guess  ?  " 

She  nodded,  with  her  mouth  squeezed. 

He  got  up,  and  touched  her. 

"  He  was  there,  and  we  talked,  and  I  asked  him  to 
marry  me ! "  said  the  girl  in  an  outburst ;  and  she  slid 
crookedly  into  a  chair,  and  sobbed  as  if  she  would 
break  a  blood-vessel,  with  her  face  laid  on  the  arm. 

Lynch  himself  was  scarcely  less  moved.  Her  words 


26  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

dismissed  his  last  hope.  The  highest  expectation  of  his 
life  had  collapsed. 

"  W-e-11,"  he  said,  "  I  guess  the  Queen  may  do  these 
things.  Don't  break  up  like  that,  poppet;  you've  noth- 
ing to  blush  for — he  couldn't  ask  you,  that's  certain. 
I  ain't  going  to  raise  Cain,  you  know ;  if  you  want  to 
marry  him,  you've  just  got  to  marry  him,  there's  no 
doubt  about  it.  So  dry  your  eyes,  and  sit  round,  and 
I'll  light  that  cigar— see?  " 

"  I  am  not  going  to  marry  him,"  she  answered,  rais- 
ing herself. 

The  old  man  stared  at  her  speechlessly.  "What?" 
he  said  at  last. 

"  He — he  made  conditions." 

"  How's  that,  he  '  made  conditions '  ?  You  offered 
to  marry  him,  and  he  '  made  conditions  '  ?  " 

"  He  said  I  must  marry  him  on  what  he  had  got ; 
that  he  wouldn't  take  anything  from  you,  not  a  cent !  " 

"  Is  that  all  ?  "  said  Lynch,  on  a  laugh.  "  Don't  you 
fret  your  eyes  red  about  that !  " 

"  It's  real,  he  means  it.  He  thinks  our  dollars  hor- 
rible, he  said  they  '  revolted '  him,  he  said  he  would 
rather  lose  me  than  touch  them.  Oh,  I  am  ashamed! 
He  degraded  me!  I  sat  there  feeling  like  a  thief.  You 
don't  know  what  it  was!  I  loved  him,  and  I  couldn't 
look  him  in  the  face — I  couldn't  defend  my  own  father. 
Oh,  if  I  could  have  changed  places  with  any  decent 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  27 

girl  in  New  York,  I  might  have  been  so  happy  to- 
night!" 

"Honey!"  he  pleaded,  trembling  over  her,  "my 
honey,  baby — don't !  " 

"  Is  it  so  bad  as  they  say  ?  Tell  me.  I've  been  a 
coward,  I  haven't  talked,  but  I'm  not  blind — you  must 
know  I  know.  I've  got  to  understand  now,  I've  got  to 
know  just  what  I  am !  " 

"  You're  one  of  the  wealthiest  girls  alive,"  he  fal- 
tered. "  Is  that  good  enough  ?  " 

"  No !  There's  not  a  girl  clerking  in  this  city  who 
has  been  degraded  as  your  daughter  was  to-night. 
I've  got  to  know  just  what  I  am,  I've  got  to  know  if 
he  was  justified." 

"  Betty,"  said  Lynch,  "  it  is  mainly  for  you  I  am 
working — I  am  not  piling  up  millions  for  Howard  to 
squander  them  when  I  go.  You  know  I  have  aimed  at 
seeing  you  an  English  duchess — I  have  sometimes  even 
— er — knuckled  under,  in  view  of  my  ambitions  for 
you.  Don't  ask  me  if  I  have  justified  a  man  in  insult- 
ing you." 

"  I  don't  want  the  millions  if  they  bring  me  con- 
tempt— I'm  a  woman,  and  I  loved  him,  and  I  want  the 
right  to  tell  him  that  he  lied !  " 

"  Well,  of  course,  of  course  he  lied,"  said  Lynch 
soothingly.  "  He  doesn't  know ;  you  say  he  is  an  artist 
— what  knowledge  has  he  of  finance?  I  guess  he  has 


28  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

read  a  leader  in  the  Flag  and  been  stuffed ;  why  doesn't 
he  read  the  Day?  See  here,  there's  not  a  business 
going,  however  small  it  may  be,  that  hasn't  got  its 
smaller  enemies:  the  greenhorn  that  has  opened  a 
little  dry-goods  store  in  a  village  is  cursed  by  the 
pedlar,  who  don't  need  to  come  around  there  any 
more ;  the  pedlar  says  the  greenhorn  is  a  '  monopolist, 
crushing  competition.'  Even  the  pedlar  is  attacked — 
there  is  another  pedlar  in  the  same  district,  who 
growls  that  the  first  fellow's  pack  is  too  big.  Through 
all  commercial  and  industrial  enterprise,  poppet,  it  is 
the  same  thing;  but  the  larger  the  pack,  the  louder  the 
growl." 

"  It  sounds  all  right,"  she  admitted  weakly ;  "  but 
then,  I  want  to  believe  it !  " 

"  You've  just  got  to  believe  it.  Don't  you  go  look- 
ing for  trouble.  In  this  life  it's  every  man  for  him- 
self, and  the  only  man  who  pretends  different  is  the 
one  who's  so  weak-kneed  that  he  wants  somebody  else 
to  shove  him  along.  The  '  wicked  monopolist '  don't 
monopolise  selfishness.  See  those  letters  on  the  desk! 
I  haven't  touched  them — I  don't  hire  secretaries  in 
order  to  pass  my  day  reading  what  don't  concern 
me — but  there  are  two  things  I  can  tell  you  about 
them  right  here.  They're  all  begging  letters  from 
strangers,  who  recognise  that  if  I  gave  to  all  the 
beggars  who  write  me,  I'd  be  selling  bananas  on 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  29 

the  street;  and  every  stranger  has  marked  his  letter 
'  private,'  to  get  an  advantage  over  the  other  stran- 
gers." 

"  Some  of  them  may  be  deserving,  for  all  that,"  she 
said. 

"  Have  I  time  to  sort  them  ?  Can  I  neglect  business 
while  I  convert  myself  into  an  investigation  bureau? 
I  do  all  the  good  I  can,  without  being  unjust  to  myself 
and  my  children.  I  made  a  gift  of  half  a  million  to 
the  Nixonville  Institute  only  this  week.  My  charities 
are  very  numerous,  and  they  are  my  joy  as  well  as  my 
duty.  Had  your  Mr.  Keith  any  comments  to  make  on 
my  charities  ?  " 

She  stirred  in  the  chair  restlessly :  "  No." 

"  You're  going  to  tell  me  just  what  he  said ;  I  don't 
allow  you  to  be  insulted." 

"  He  said — well,  it  was  I  who  said  it  first :  I  saw 
what  he  meant  when  he  said  that  he  couldn't  marry 
me.  But  he  acknowledged  that  was  his  reason!  He 
said  he  wouldn't  talk  about  it.  He  said  he  thought  the 
Trust  revolting,  that  if  he  lived  on  dollars  from — 
from  a  source  he  condemned,  he  would  be  a  *  cur.'  He 
wanted  me  to  marry  him  on  what  he  has." 

"What's  that?" 

She  gave  a  shrug.  "  Not  much." 

"Is  that  all  he  said?" 

"  I  think  that's  all." 


30  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

"  Well,  forget  about  him !  Have  a  good  time.  I'll 
send  you  to  Europe  with  Howard — the  London  sea- 
son'll  be  starting  soon — I'll  come  over  myself  and 
fix  up  that  presentation  at  Court  for  you.  There's 
nothing  smashed.  In  a  year  you'll  wonder  what  you 
saw  in  him  and  why  you  were  so  wretched." 

"  I  have  never  imagined  I  cared  seriously  for  any- 
one before,"  she  said.  "  It's  very  easy  to  be  cynical 
about  other  people's  sorrows." 

"  As  you  go  through  life,  poppet,  you'll  get  experi- 
ence of  a  bitterer  cynic  than  me,  or  any  other  man. 
That's  Time.  W-e-11,  you  know  I  wasn't  keen  on  your 
marrying  him,  and  I  am  a  long  way  from  keen  to- 
night, but  if  you  have  set  your  heart  on  it,  go  ahead! 
Don't  worry  yourself  over  trifles;  it  would  not  be 
a  difficult  transaction  to  persuade  a  man  to  take  an 
income  for  nothing,  plus  the  girl  he  loves." 

"  I  wouldn't  marry  him  now  if  he  went  on  his  knees 
to  me !  "  she  said  vehemently.  "  Besides,  he  meant  it, 
I  tell  you,  he  meant  every  word." 

"  I  have  met  cranks  already,  but  I  have  never  met 
one  yet  who  wasn't  amenable  to  reason  through  his 
pocket." 

"  You  don't  know  him !  "  There  was  a  little  un- 
conscious pride  in  her  voice. 

"  No,  but  I  know  human  nature.  .  .  .  See  here, 
when  I  made  your  mother's  acquaintance,  she  hadn't 


THE   HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  31 

a  notion  who  I  was — I  had  gone  South  incog.  The 
rumpus  had  begun  even  then;  there  was  some  of  the 
poppycock  talked  in  those  days  that  there  is  now. 
Her  father  had  very  high  principles,  and  nothing  else 
— he  had  been  crippled  by  the  War;  the  twenty  thou- 
sand that  he  left  to  you  was  all  locked  up  in  sugar 
at  that  time.  He  spoke  to  me  about  '  the  millionaire 
Lynch  and  his  methods  '  as  he  might  have  spoken 
about  the  devil  and  all  his  works.  But  your  mother 
was  very  sweet ;  I  liked  her.  So  one  day  I  said  to  him, 
'  /'m  Lynch — and  I  want  to  marry  your  daughter.' 
W-e-11,  he  adopted  another  view  of  my  methods!  .  .  . 
If  you  ask  me  to  do  so,  I  will  smoke  a  cigar  with 
Mr.  Keith,  and  he  will  see  that  his  judgment  was 
erroneous." 

"  '  If  I  ask  you  to  do  so  ?  '  "  she  said.  "  If  you  were 
to  send  for  him,  I  could  never  lift  my  head  again! 
I'll  never  speak  another  word  to  him  as  long  as  I 
live — it  doesn't  matter  whether  I  forget  or  not ! " 
She  got  up,  and  righted  her  hair  with  a  pretence  of 
composure  before  a  mirror.  "  Don't  you  think  we've 
stayed  here  late  enough  talking  about  Mr.  Keith  ?  " 


Ill 

AFTER  he  left  the  dance,  Richard  Keith  walked  miles 
blindly.  A  few  hours  earlier  he  had  meant  to  leave 
her,  had  been  almost  resigned  to  leaving  her,  but  in 
the  interval  the  unforeseen  had  happened :  she  had 
said  she  cared  for  him,  he  had  insulted  her — and  she 
was  much  dearer  to  him  than  she  had  been  a  few 
hours  earlier.  Before  the  dance  he  had  thought  that 
there  could  be  nothing  more  impossible  than  for  him 
to  ask  Miss  Lynch  to  marry  him.  But  he  had  asked 
her,  and  now,  in  spite  of  her  repulse  and  his  distress 
of  mind — in  spite  of  common  sense  itself — the  hope 
persisted. 

He  tried  to  view  the  marriage  with  her  eyes,  and 
shrank  aghast  from  the  magnitude  of  her  sacrifice. 
Yet  he  prayed  that  she  would  make  it.  He  wanted 
it  not  only  for  his  sake;  because  he  loved  her  he 
wanted  it  for  hers.  "  I  know  about  the  people  ruined, 
and  the  broken  homes ! "  The  words  had  been  hide- 
ous on  her  lips.  Yes,  she  knew!  Not  the  whole,  not 
a  tithe,  she  did  not  see  the  suicides'  blood  or  their 

3* 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  33 

daughters'  helplessness — the  victims'  cries  did  not 
pierce  the  music  in  the  mansions;  from  her  carriage 
window  she  could  not  read  the  histories  of  Magda- 
lens  in  the  street.  But  vaguely  she  knew — and  he 
hungered  for  her  to  be  worthier,  he  yearned  for  her 
to  be  as  noble  as  she  looked. 

Alternately  he  wondered  if  he  was  insane  to  dream 
of  her  consenting,  and  if  he  would  be  justified  in 
pleading  to  her.  Could  she  be  happy  as  his  wife? 
Her  sacrifice  would  not  abate  the  suffering — if  her 
shame  satisfied  her,  perhaps  his  appeal  would  be 
grossly  selfish?  But  he  could  not  think  it  would  be 
selfish  after  what  she  had  owned.  Though  in  her 
presence  he  felt  a  pauper,  he  was  indeed  a  rising 
man — she  would  not  starve  in  his  arms.  The  last 
two  years  had  brought  recognition  and  a  banking 
account.  A  balance  of  a  few  hundred  pounds  and  Mr. 
Waldehast's  cheque  for  fifteen  hundred  dollars  repre- 
sented a  stately  monument  on  the  road  of  his  life. 

His  father  had  been  a  clergyman  because  the  Church 
had  called  to  him,  not  because  there  was  a  living  in 
the  family;  indeed,  expedience  had  pointed  in  another 
direction.  A  painfully  inadequate  stipend  had  been 
eked  out  by  a  slender  private  income.  The  widow  had 
invested  the  principal  in  a  bubble  company,  and  found 
herself  penniless  while  the  boy  was  at  a  student  ho- 
tel in  Montparnasse.  He  had  been  wrenched  from 


34  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

Montparnasse  to  enter  an  office  in  East  India  Ave- 
nue, where  her  brother-in-law  generously  paid  him 
more  than  his  services  were  worth,  and  ungenerously 
reminded  him  of  it.  From  the  time  Keith  was  nine- 
teen until  his  mother  died  he  had  been  bread-winner 
for  them  both,  and  simulated  cheerfulness.  If  the 
clerk  wept  for  the  art  student,  he  wore  no  mourn- 
ing for  him,  nor  did  he  doubt  that  he  would  reach 
his  Mistress  at  the  end.  The  journey  would  be  longer 
and  rougher,  that  was  all !  The  widow  heard  no  mur- 
murs. He  was  an  automaton  by  day  and  an  enthusi- 
ast by  night ;  the  cipher  in  the  city  office  laboured  like 
a  hero  in  the  Clapham  lodgings.  And  of  course  the 
lady  thought  it  a  pity :  "  He  would  get  a  much  better 
position  with  his  uncle  if  he  only  took  more  interest 
in  the  business — she  was  speaking  for  his  own  good !  " 
But  the  inner  voice  was  stronger.  He  had  drawn 
before  he  could  spell,  drawn  on  his  slate,  on  the  walls 
of  his  nursery, — and  been  punished  for  it, — drawn 
on  the  backs  of  his  father's  sermons — drawn,  as  many 
children  lie,  because  it  was  an  imperative  and  un- 
reasoning instinct.  It  had  been  instinct  that  riveted 
him  before  the  Turner  water-colours  one  day  when 
"  Art "  was  an  unknown  name,  when  he  knew  only 
that  each  separate  piece  of  paper  seemed  to  have 
caught  all  the  light  and  loveliness  of  the  world.  His 
mother  had  run  into  the  National  Gallery  with  him, 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  35 

during  a  visit  to  London,  for  shelter  from  the  rain, 
and  the  child  understood  that  she  thought  him  a 
little  noodle  when  she  saw  his  eyes.  The  clerk  under- 
stood that  she  thought  him  a  fool  when  she  saw  him 
paint.  To  the  average  mind  there  is  nothing  sillier 
than  genius  before  it  is  renowned.  Afterwards,  the 
renown  is  admired. 

At  her  death  the  office  had  been  abandoned  that 
he  might  have  more  time  to  study.  His  abject  pov- 
erty had  not  been  sufficiently  prolonged  to  dull  his 
ideals,  but  he  had  often  been  dinnerless  and  even  home- 
less, and  for  years  the  income  from  his  art  had  not 
equalled  the  salary  from  his  clerkship.  To-day,  if  he 
had  not  been  in  love  with  the  daughter  of  a  million- 
aire, he  would  have  been  elated  by  his  pecuniary  po- 
sition; four  to  five  hundred  a  year  was  conspicuous, 
for  his  age.  Besides,  he  hoped  that  his  prices  would 
improve  much  more.  Although  the  man  was  too  truly 
an  artist  to  seek  popular  success  at  the  cost  of  doing 
inferior  work,  he  was  too  truly  an  artist  to  be  indif- 
ferent to  wealth.  Wealth  is  the  master-key  to  beauty 
— to  travel  in  beautiful  places,  to  the  collection  of 
beautiful  things.  Keith  desired  riches  ardently,  though 
he  put  his  conscience  first. 

No,  wild  it  might  be  to  aspire  to  marry  her,  but 
not  selfish,  he  thought,  for  she  cared  for  him.  Since 
it  was  for  him  she  cared,  he  naturally  over-estimated 


36  THE   HOUSE   OF   LYNCH 

the  importance  of  her  caring.  Lightly  as  a  man  thinks 
of  a  girl's  tenderness  for  any  other  man,  he  is  apt  to 
think  it  an  imperishable  influence  in  her  life  if  her 
tenderness  is  for  himself.  Brown  and  Jones  are  always 
secretly  amused  at  Robinson's  fear  that  Miss  Green 
will  break  her  heart  if  he  has  to  give  her  up :  "  Dear 
old  chap,  Robinson,  one  of  the  best,  but  his  idea  that 
he  is  an  object  of  profound  devotion  is  rather  comic !  " 
But  Brown  and  Jones  similarly  exaggerate  the  feelings 
that  they  have  inspired  in  the  Misses  Pink  and  White. 
It  is  not  vanity,  it  is  faith;  the  desirable  lover  accepts 
the  girl's  own  view  of  her  emotions — and  the  girl  who 
doesn't  imagine  her  love  to  be  lifelong  is  not  worth 
marrying. 

It  was  daybreak  when  Richard  Keith  re-entered  the 
boarding-house  to  which  he  had  fled  dismayed  after 
a  few  weeks'  experience  of  hotel  terms;  and  a  letter 
from  him  was  brought  to  Betty  when  she  woke — a 
long,  remorseful,  futile  letter.  It  said  everything  but 
what  she  wanted  to  hear — that  he  withdrew  his 
objection. 

To  most  people  it  is  fatally  easy  to  feel  convinced 
of  what  they  wish  to  believe.  Lynch's  daughter 
wished  to  believe  that  her  wealth  was  honest.  Though 
Keith  was  by  no  means  essential  to  her  happiness,  she 
fancied  that  he  was,  and  a  sentimental  illusion  may 
create  quite  as  much  ferment  as  an  heroic  love;  she 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  37 

was  suffering  violently,  and  it  would  have  been  hor- 
rible to  her  to  think  that  this  hurricane  of  hopeless- 
ness sprang  from  her  attachment  to  an  infamous  for- 
tune. It  was  far  nicer  to  believe  that  her  father  was 
traduced  by  the  world  and  that  Keith  was  wantonly 
unreasonable. 

She  pitied  herself  passionately.  Never  in  her  frivo- 
lous life  before  had  she  wanted  anything  so  much, 
and  never  until  now  had  anything  been  denied  to  her. 
Because  it  was  denied,  she  wanted  it  more  vehemently 
still. 

She  sent  no  answer  to  his  letter.  The  impulse  to 
assuage  her  pain  by  mortifying  him  with  a  few  hurt- 
ful lines  was  very  strong,  but  she  felt  that  silence  be- 
came her  better ;  and  the  thought  that,  on  the  whole,  it 
would  mortify  him  even  more,  enabled  her  to  resist 
the  temptation. 

Nor  did  she  go  to  the  Waldehasts'  during  the  next 
few  days,  ardently  as  she  desired  to  hear  about  him; 
so  Keith  contrived  to  see  her  only  when  she  was  driv- 
ing— when  he  could  not  be  certain  whether  he  was 
ignored,  or  only  overlooked.  However,  she  wrote  ask- 
ing Mrs.  Waldehast  to  go  to  her.  They  had  been 
friends  since  their  schooldays,  and  Dardy  Waldehast 
rustled  in  upon  her  promptly. 

"  Now,  I'm  just  dying  with  curiosity,"  she  said,  "  so 
you've  got  to  tell  me  everything !  " 


38  THE   HOUSE    OF   LYNCH 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  said  Betty. 

"  I've  been  trying  to  pump  Keith,  but  I  can't  get 
anything  out  of  him." 

"  Mr.  Keith  ?  "  Her  tone  implied  that  the  reference 
to  him  was  irrelevant.  "  Oh,  he  hasn't  sailed  then  ? 
I  thought  he  was  leaving  New  York  ?  " 

"  He  is  very  much  in  New  York  at  present — he 
has  been  living  in  my  rocker,  waiting  for  you  to 
come  in." 

"Did  he  say  so?" 

"  Not  in  words.  What's  the  trouble  with  him, 
Betty  ?  I  thought  you  meant  it  ?  " 

"  So  I  did  mean  it ;  you  know  very  well  I  meant  it ! 
Dardy,  I'm  miserable;  he  has  treated  me  abominably. 
He  says — he  says  he  wouldn't  take  a  cent  with  me! 
What  do  you  think  of  that  ?  " 

Dardy  Waldehast's  eyes  widened.  "  You  don't  mean 
to  say  that's  what  you're  worrying  about  ? "  she 
asked.  "  That  sort  of  thing  looks  very  pretty,  but  it's 
not  made  to  wash.  He  couldn't  help  it,  even  if  he 
wanted  to,  you  know  that  very  well — he  hasn't  got 
anything." 

"  He  insists  that  we  should  live  on  what  he  has  got, 
anyhow.  If  you  think  he's  trying  to  fool  me,  we  can't 
talk.  I  have  refused  him ;  I  am  never  going  to  see  him 
any  more." 

"But,  you  flat!  he  had  to  say  it;  he  couldn't  have 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  39 

proposed  to  you  if  he  hadn't  said  it.  I  don't  know 
where  your  wits  have  gone,  really !  " 

"  You  don't  understand.  He  won't  take  it  because 
he's  a  crank;  he  thinks  the  Trust  is  wicked.  Oh,  he 
made  his  reasons  perfectly  plain — my  feelings  were  of 
no  consequence!  Of  course  he  doesn't  know  anything 
about  it — he  has  probably  been  misled  by  a  leader 
in  the  Flag.  He  says  he  wouldn't  touch  our  dollars. 
He  wants  me  to  do  without  them,  and  '  give  my  soul  a 
chance ' — he's  strong  on  my  soul,  my  food  doesn't 
matter!  He  expects  me  to  sacrifice  all  my  comfort  to 
his  crazy  notions.  I  never  heard  anything  so  selfish  in 
my  life." 

"Well,  I  should  say!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Waldehast. 
"  Is  that  so  ?  And  I've  been  feeling  real  bad  for  him, 
feeding  him  up  with  tea  and  candies!  .  .  .  Does  it 
weigh  much,  Bet  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  never  liked  a  man  that  way  before.  I'd 
have  done  anything  for  him — and  he  treats  me  like 
this !  I  suppose  it's  life — as  soon  as  a  girl  cares  for  a 
man  really,  he  makes  her  suffer.  They're  only  fit  to  be 
flirted  with  and  made  game  of.  I'd  rather  have  mar- 
ried him  than  all  the  dukes  in  the  peerage — and  he 
doesn't  mind  if  I  don't  have  enough  to  eat!  " 

"  Have  you  told  your  father  ?  " 

"  Yes.  Of  course  he  doesn't  want  me  to  marry  him, 
but  he'd  let  me — I  might  have  had  a  heavenly  life  if  it 


40  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

hadn't  been  for  him  I  My  father  offered  to  talk  to  him, 
but  I  can't  permit  that — making  myself  so  cheap.  Be- 
sides, it  wouldn't  do  any  good.  He  wants  me  to  go  to 
Europe  with  Howard." 

"Who — your  father  does?  Are  you  going?" 

"  What's  the  use  of  that  ?  I'll  never  get  over  it  as 
long  as  I  live — in  Europe  or  anywhere  else.  It  has 
broken  my  heart,  I  could  cry  my  eyes  out."  Her  voice 
quivered.  "  What  shall  I  do,  Dardy  ?  I'm  so  fond  of 
him.  Tisn't  as  if  he  were  silly  all  through;  it's  only 
just  this  one  point — he's  as  sensible  as  anybody  else 
about  most  things." 

"  I  wish  I  hadn't  had  him  at  the  house  so  much !  " 

"  Oh,  it's  my  own  fault — I  saw  where  I  was  going. 
I  could  have  pulled  up  in  time  if  I  had  wanted  to. 
Now  it's  too  late !  I'll  never  care  for  another  man  as  I 
cared  for  him.  I  feel — I  feel  about  him  just  the  way 
we  used  to  talk  before  we  put  our  hair  up,  Dardy." 

Mrs.  Waldehast  nodded.  "  Still,  of  course,  that 
wouldn't  last  anyhow,"  she  said.  "  Even  if  you  marry 
your  romance,  you  lose  it — I  mean,  your  husband's 
quite  different  from  the  fellow  you  used  to  gaze  at  the 
moon  about." 

"  I  expect  he's  more  like  it  than  the  other  fellows, 
all  the  same !  " 

"  I  don't  know ;  Hal's  all  right,  and  I'm  quite  happy 
with  him,  but  I  do  sometimes  wonder  what  became  of 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  41 

the  Hal  I  got  married  to.  I  don't  meet  him.  I  guess 
there's  a  bad  fairy  that  flies  away  with  our  bride- 
grooms while  we're  dreaming  on  the  honeymoon — and 
when  we  wake,  we  just  find  husbands  in  their  place." 

"  You  can't  console  me  that  way." 

"  No.  Well,  you'd  better  talk  him  round.  He's  very 
smitten — you'll  only  have  to  cry." 

"  I  don't  see  how  I  can  speak  to  him  again — we've 
quarrelled.  Tell  me  what  I  can  do!  I  don't  care  how 
much  humble  pie  I  eat  as  long  as  he  doesn't  know — 
don't  you  ever  remind  me  I  said  that,  or  I'll  hate 
you!" 

"  I'd  go  to  Europe  if  I  were  you;  I  can  mention  to 
him  what  boat  you're  crossing  by.  Go  by  a  Cunarder, 
a  slow  one — you'll  have  time  to  twist  him  round  your 
finger  before  she  lands." 

"  I  couldn't  forgive  him  right  away — it'd  look  like 
jumping  at  him." 

"  You  can  spare  two  days  to  be  chilly  in — two  days 
last  a  long  while  at  sea;  they'll  seem  as  long  as  the 
winter  to  him.  That'll  leave  you  five  or  six  days  to 
make  him  do  what  you  want.  You'll  have  trained  him 
up  in  the  way  he  should  go  long  before  you  reach 
Liverpool." 

"  It's  a  heavenly  notion,"  admitted  Betty  cheerfully ; 
"it's  sweet  of  you — I  hadn't  thought  of  that!  But 
I'm  not  keen  on  going  to  Europe  with  Howard;  I 


42  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

know  what  it  means — I'll  never  see  him  there;  he'll 
leave  me  in  the  hotel,  looking  out  of  the  window.  I 
wish  you  were  going." 

"  Me?  We  don't  go  till  the  Fall." 

"  It's  much  better  now  than  in  the  Fall.  It's  per- 
fectly ridiculous  going  over  in  the  Fall.  London's 
empty  in  the  Fall — so's  Paris.  They're  a  dream  in  the 
spring.  Come  with  me!  I'll  give  you  a  dandy  time. 
Come  for  a  month  and  buy  frocks.  You  shall  come  back 
as  soon  as  I'm  engaged." 

"  I  should  have  to  put  off  all  my  parties.  And  I'd  be 
so  scared  about  the  baby." 

"  What's  the  matter  with  her  ?  " 

"  There's  nothing  the  matter  with  her,  but  there 
might  be.  With  me  at  sea !  I  should  go  crazy." 

"  You  can  have  a  marconigram  every  day  about  the 
baby — and  a  cable  every  day  when  we're  there.  Say 
you  will!  You've  been  such  a  pal — I  was  just  broken 
up  when  you  came  in.  Do  be  sweet  and  see  me 
through !  "  She  hung  round  her,  smiling,  flushed,  coax- 
ing like  a  child.  "  You'd  be  such  a  help — Howard  'd  be 
no  good,  he's  got  no  tact.  Think  what  it  means:  it's 
just  my  life's  happiness  I'm  begging  of  you,  Dardy! 
And  we'll  go  by  the  Caronia — the  staterooms  have  got 
the  cunningest  little  electric  heaters  for  one's  curling- 
irons." 

Dardy  Waldehast  reflected.  "  Oh,  all  right  then,"  she 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  43 

said,  "  I'll  go !  Better  let  your  father  think  you're 
going  away  to  get  over  it,  hadn't  you — leave  him 
easy?" 

And  when  Lynch  joined  them,  the  girl  said,  "  I've 
been  telling  Dardy  she's  got  to  take  me  to  Europe. 
We  want  to  go  by  the  Caronia — the  Cunard's  so  safe." 

"  Well  now,  that's  first-rate,  Mrs.  Waldehast !  "  said 
the  financier,  relieved ;  "  that's  just  what  she  wants 
to  buck  her  up.  I'll  'phone  for  a  couple  of  suites  for 
the  next  trip.  I'm  real  glad  you're  both  going.  Would 
you  like  to  take  Howard  along? — he'll  do  to  look  after 
the  baggage." 

"  Our  maids  can  look  after  the  baggage,"  said 
Betty.  "  A  couple  of  suites  and  a  stateroom  for  the 
maids  will  be  enough ;  we  don't  want  Howard.  Where 
shall  we  stay,  Dardy?  When  you  cable  for  rooms, 
poppa,  you  might  explain  that  '  Flowers '  means  flow- 
ers in  the  bedrooms ;  I'll  never  forget  the  last  time  we 
arrived — there  wasn't  a  bouquet  in  a  bedroom,  it  was 
frightful!" 

"  I'll  fix  it,"  assented  Lynch,  thankful  for  her 
brighter  tone.  He  had  just  been  drafting  a  prospectus 
that  would  gull  a  multitude,  but  the  young  women 
found  him  gullible. 


IV 


AFTER  Mrs.  Waldehast  had  told  him  carelessly  that 
she  was  to  sail  with  Betty  Lynch  on  the  Caronia, 
Keith  hurried  to  State  Street  and  booked  his  passage 
by  the  boat,  rejoicing  at  his  "  discovery  " ;  and  at  the 
Metropolitan,  later  in  the  evening,  Dardy  Waldehast 
threw  to  Betty,  in  the  opposite  box,  two  little  emphatic 
nods,  which  said,  "  I've  done  it !  " 

His  elation  was  succeeded  by  the  fear  that  the  girl 
might  not  go  after  all.  There  were  ten  days'  suspense. 
The  prospect  of  seeing  her  constantly  during  the  pas- 
sage seemed  to  him  too  extraordinary  to  be  fulfilled. 
Something  must  prevent  this  maritime  heaven!  When 
he  drove  to  the  pier  at  last  he  was  more  despondent 
than  excited.  A  bad  night  hinted  that  a  caprice  had 
balked  him  at  the  final  moment,  that  he  was  about 
to  put  the  Atlantic  between  them. 

The  length  of  deck  was  chaos,  apparently  heaped 
with  the  luggage  of  the  world.  All  the  women  were 
speaking  at  once,  and  every  woman  was  saying  "  stew- 
ard "  or  "  grip."  Below,  in  the  great  dining-saloon, 

44 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  45 

a  variety  artist  queened  it  at  one  of  the  small  tables, 
taking  leave  of  some  admirers;  champagne  popped 
to  her  triumphs  in  London;  the  table  was  gorgeous 
with  roses  and  ribbons,  the  valedictory  expressions  of 
regard.  He  lost  himself  in  a  maze  of  corridors,  and 
captured  his  stateroom  only  after  it  had  eluded  him 
three  times.  There  are  staterooms  which  seem  never 
to  be  twice  in  the  same  place.  When  he  returned, 
order  was  prevailing.  The  deck  grew  clearer,  the 
last  adieux  were  gabbled.  Neither  Miss  Lynch  nor 
Mrs.  Waldehast  was  to  be  seen.  The  endless  crowd 
streamed  off,  instead  of  on,  now — momentarily  it 
looked  as  if  everybody  had  been  a  visitor  and  nobody 
would  be  left  to  sail.  Still  they  were  unseen!  He 
gazed  forlornly  round.  And  the  hotel  moved  away. 

He  saw  them,  with  a  heart  thump,  about  an  hour 
later,  after  the  chairs  were  set  out.  He  knew  that  Mrs. 
Waldehast  whispered,  "  Here's  Keith,"  as  he  ap- 
proached, for  Betty  gave  a  faint  start  of  astonishment. 
But  she  did  not  turn  her  head.  The  other  woman  ex- 
claimed, "  Why,  Mr.  Keith !  "  with  smiling  surprise, 
and  there  was  a  few  moments'  awkward  conversation. 
His  embarrassment  at  intruding  upon  Betty,  who  was 
monosyllabic  and  obviously  chagrined  to  find  him 
there,  made  him  very  constrained.  He  envied  the  com- 
posure with  which  she  contrived  to  mask  her  amaze- 
ment at  meeting  him,  after  the  first  instant  of  dismay. 


46  THE    HOUSE   OF   LYNCH 

For  the  rest  of  the  day  they  kept  to  their  suites. 
The  moonlit  deck  ungraced  was  pathetic. 

In  the  morning  they  were  not  at  breakfast.  It  was 
eleven  o'clock  before  a  stir  with  their  chairs  and  rugs 
heralded  their  appearance.  Mrs.  Waldehast's  comment 
on  the  weather  in  passing  him  was  formal — evidently 
she  had  been  asked  to  keep  him  at  a  distance.  As  to 
that,  there  was  a  smoking-room! 

But,  after  all,  it  wasn't  to  admire  the  smoking-room 
that  he  had  chosen  the  Caronia  I  He  went  to  luncheon 
resolved  to  find  his  opportunity  before  the  moon  could 
mock  him  again. 

The  afternoon  was  blank  until  the  tea-cups  circu- 
lated. Then  the  two  ladies  settled  themselves  on  the 
boat  deck,  but  were  inseparable  until  a  sudden  shower 
sent  everyone  scurrying  into  the  lounge.  "  I  think  this 
is  where  I  leave  you  ?  "  said  the  confidante.  "  Well, 
don't  be  gone  more  than  a  minute  or  two!"  mur- 
mured Betty.  Mrs.  Waldehast  got  up  and  shivered 
— she  went  below  for  a  wrap.  The  girl  remained  on 
the  divan,  absorbed  by  a  magazine.  He  reached  her 
in  three  strides. 

"  Aren't  you  going  to  let  me  talk  to  you  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  why  you  should  want  to  talk 
to  me,"  she  said,  at  once  startled,  proud,  and  re- 
proachful. 

"  It's  all  I'm  here  for — I  heard  you  were  going." 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  47 

"  I  think  it  was  a  great  pity  you  heard.  It  was 
very  foolish  of  Dardy  to  speak  about  it." 

"I'm  very  grateful  that  she  did!  .  .  .  You  got 
my  letter?  " 

She  bent  her  head  silently. 

"  I  waited  in  the  whole  day  for  your  answer.  It 
was  a  very  long  day." 

"What  answer  did  you  expect?"  The  tone  was 
a  rebuke. 

"  I  hoped  you'd  say  that  you  forgave  me  for  hurt- 
ing you.  Will  you?  If  you  knew  how  bad  I've  been 
feeling " 

"I'd  rather  not  hear  about  it,  please!"  she  said. 
"  I  wish  to  forget." 

"Me?" 

After  a  second's  pause  she  faltered,  "Yes;  what 
else  can  I  do  now?  " 

"  You  can  say  you'll  marry  me — I  love  you,  I 
love  you  so  much!  Betty,  I've  felt  a  brute  and  a 
cad  for  saying  what  I  did  to  you — I've  seen  that 
look  in  your  eyes  ever  since.  Won't  you  forgive 
me?" 

"  You  told  me  we  couldn't  be  happy  together. 
What's  the  good  of  asking  me  to  forgive  you?  " 

"  I  told  you  we  couldn't  be  happy  on  your  money. 
I'm  not  asking  you  to  marry  me  on  that.  If  you  care 
for  me,  can't  you — can't  you  give  it  up?  " 


48  THE   HOUSE   OF   LYNCH 

"  Oh ! "  She  made  a  movement  of  impatience. 
"  You  ask  me  to  marry  you  one  minute,  and  insult 
me  the  next.  I  think  you're  crazy! " 

"  You  know  I  don't  mean  to  insult  you;  it's  much 
worse  for  me  to  have  to  speak  about  the  money 
than  it  is  for  you  to  hear.  But  you've  got  to  un- 
derstand me.  We  needn't  discuss  my  reasons  any 
more;  I'd  much  rather  not.  It  amounts  to  this:  if 
you  marry  me,  you'll  live  on  what  I  can  make 
for  you!  It's  what  I  implore  you  to  do.  If  you'll 
only " 

Dardy  Waldehast  came  back  with  a  cape  on. 
"  Hasn't  it  turned  cold? "  she  said  to  Keith,  as 
casually  as  if  she  had  just  been  chatting  with  him. 
"  Feel  my  hands!  " 

Betty  was  sorry  that  she  had  commanded  such  a 
quick  return.  But  the  ice  was  broken  now,  and, 
though  the  brief  conversation  was  different  from  the 
one  she  had  forecast,  she  felt  in  better  spirits  for  it. 

So  did  Keith.  They  talked  again  in  the  drawing- 
room  after  dinner.  Somebody  sang  Tosti.  And  after 
Tosti,  the  deck  was  dry,  but  not  dry  enough  for  Mrs. 
Waldehast.  He  and  Betty  sauntered  alone. 

She  looked  at  the  sky,  and  paid  a  compliment  to 
the  moon. 

"  It's  much  better  than  it  was  last  night,"  he  said 
appreciatively. 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  49 

"  I  didn't  notice  it  last  night;  we  didn't  come  up." 

"  No— and  it  gibed !  I  had  been  on  the  Caronia 

for  aeons   without  getting  a   word  with  you.  The 

moon  quoted  Browning." 

"  Carnegie  must  have  found  a  new  field  for  his 
libraries!  What  did  it  say?  " 

"  '  Never  the  time,  and  the  place,  and  the  loved 
one  all  together.'  Oh,  I  was  wretched  last  night! 
The  deck  was  calling  for  you.  .  .  .  Do  you  know — 
do  you  know,  I'm  almost  inclined  to  wish  that  I 
hadn't  any  principles!  It  would  make  things  so 
much  easier.  I  never  thought  I  could  be  in  a  situa- 
tion where  I  shouldn't  know  the  right  course  from 

the  wrong,  but — but Is  a  man  a  selfish  beast 

to  try  to  make  a  girl  renounce  a  fortune  for  him,  or 
would  he  be  only  half  a  lover  to  let  her  go  when 
they  care  for  each  other?  ...  If  I  thought  you'd  re- 
gret yielding,  I'd  say  '  good-bye '  and  try  to  forget 
you,  as  I  meant  to  do;  I  would,  on  my  honour!" 
"  Don't  you  think  you  may  be  unjust?  "  she  asked 
haltingly.  "  I  told  my  father  what  you  said;  he  said 
you  didn't  understand.  He  said  that  every  business 
has  its  enemies.  Even  if  it  is  a  small  business,  there 
is  always  somebody  smaller  who  complains  of  it  and 
says  that  it's  wicked  and  tyrannical.  My  father  has 
always  been  very  good  to  me.  If  you  knew  how 
kind  he  has  been  to  me,  you  wouldn't  think  he  was 


50  THE   HOUSE   OF   LYNCH 

a   bad   man.  When   you   say   what   you   do,    I 

Well,  I  don't  like  to  hear  you  speak  ill  of  him!" 

"  I  don't  want  to  speak  ill  of  him,  Betty.  It's  be- 
cause I  don't  want  to  hurt  you  that  I  can't  justify 
myself  to  you.  My  tongue's  tied;  I  can  only  say 
that  I  condemn — and  it  sounds  like  a  prig.  But  I'm 
not  the  only  person  who  condemns;  you  know  that, 
dear,  as  well  as  I  do." 

"  All  the  world  may  make  mistakes,"  she  pleaded. 
"  You  admitted  just  now  that  you  weren't  sure  if 
you  were  right." 

"  I'm  not  sure  if  I'm  right  in  asking  you  to  give 
the  wealth  up,  but  I'm  quite  sure  I'm  right  in  re- 
fusing to  share  it.  I'll  never  consent  to  do  that.  .  .  . 
The  truth  is,  I  haven't  the  courage  of  my  own  con- 
victions. I'd  rejoice  to  see  you  give  it  up — I'd  think 
you  a  nobler  woman.  It  makes  me  sick  when  I  re- 
member that  your  pleasures  are  paid  for  with  other 
people's  ruin — but  I  take  fright  at  the  responsibility 
of  asking  you  to  give  it  up  for  me.  I  ask  you — and 
wonder  if  it's  monstrous  of  me  directly  afterwards. 
My  view  is  right,  I  know  it's  right;  but  then  I 
shouldn't  have  expressed  it  toyou  if  I  didn't  want  you 
to  marry  me — and  perhaps  that  makes  me  wrong!  " 

They  strolled  the  length  of  their  promenade  be- 
fore she  spoke. 

"  I  think  there'd  be  nothing  gained  if  we  were  to 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  51 

talk  for  ever!  "  she  said  harshly.  "  It's  just  as  im- 
possible for  you  to  understand  my  father's  business 
as  it  would  be  for  my  father  to  understand  your  art. 
We  won't  talk  about  it  any  more,  please." 

"  You're  angry  with  me  again?  " 

She  shrugged  a  shoulder:  "  Oh,  you  have  a  right 
to  your  opinion,  I  suppose;  I'm  not  angry  with  you." 

"  That's  as  cruel  a  thing  as  you  could  say." 

"  How  can  I  help  hating  myself?  "  she  exclaimed, 
with  a  break  in  her  voice.  "  How  do  you  suppose  I 
must  feel?  Do  you  suppose  these  things  are  pleasant 
to  me  to  hear?  Do  you  suppose  I  forget  that  I 
needn't  have  heard  them  if  I  hadn't  said  what  I  did 
to  you?  You  were  going  away — you'd  never  have 
known,  7'd  have  had  nothing  to  be  ashamed  of!  " 

"  Are  you  sure  of  that?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean?  " 

"  Do  you  remember  something  you  said  to  me 
that  night?  You  said,  '  I  know  about  the  people 
ruined,  and  the  broken  homes,  and  it  doesn't  make 
me  feel  good  when  I  think  of  it.'  Are  you  sure  you'll 
always  be  able  to  put  the  thought  aside?  Are  you 
sure  the  time  can't  come  when  the  millions  won't  be 
enough — when  the  cries  of  the  people  will  keep  you 
awake?  I  don't  want  to  invent  a  conscience  for  you, 
but  are  you  positive  that  you'll  never  be  ashamed?  " 

She  paused  by  the  taffrail,  with  averted  face.  The 


52  THE    HOUSE    OF   LYNCH 

subtlety  of  her  sex  had  gone,  and  left  her  helpless. 
She  was  no  strategist,  trying  to  bend  his  will  now; 
she  was  a  girl  in  love — with  swimming  eyes,  and  a 
lump  in  her  throat,  and  a  nose  turning  pink. 

"  I  know  just  how  you  think  about  me,"  she 
gulped.  "  You  think  I'm  fonder  of  my  fortune  than 
of  you!  It's  not  true." 

"  Betty! " 

"  I'm  not,  I'm  not!  And  I  know  you're  right — yes, 
I  do  know  it,  right  down  deep — but  I  don't  want  to 
hear  about  it.  He's  my  father,  you  see.  Take  me!  I 
don't  want  the  dollars,  I  swear  I  don't — I  only  want 
to  be  happy! " 

"  O  my  sweet! "  he  stammered.  "  If  there  were 
nobody  here!  Betty,  I'm  holding  you,  I'm  thanking 
God  for  you,  I'm  kissing  your  feet,  and  your  tears, 
and  your  lips — my  heart,  my  love!  " 

"  I  know  I'm  not  as  brave  as  I  ought  to  be,"  she 
quavered,  "but  I  will  try!  I  want  to  be  just  what 
you'd  like.  You  won't  ever  be  sorry  for  marrying 
me,  will  you — I  mean  if  I  make  a  muss  of  things?  It 
won't  be  that  I'm  not  happy  and  proud  to  be  your 
wife,  only  that  I  don't  know  how  to  set  to  work.  I'll 

be  content  in  ever  so  poky  a  cottage,  and — and 1 

can't  cook  the  dinner,  I  don't  know  how,  but  I'll 
learn  all  about  art,  so  that  you  shan't  feel  you've 
married  a  fool.  And  you  shan't  ever  paint  portraits!  " 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  53 

Their  hands  clung  together  on  the  rail. 

"  I'd  paint  portraits  all  my  life  for  you,"  said  the 
man  reverently,  "  I'd  throw  art  overboard  for  you! 
I  thought  I  loved  you  before,  but  I  didn't  know 
what  love  was — -I  didn't  know  what  a  woman  could 
be!  ...  And  you  won't  have  to  cook  the  dinner, 
my  queen,  or  live  in  a  cottage;  it  won't  be  so  bad 
as  all  that.  I  make " 

"  Sh! "  she  whispered.  "  Never  mind  what  you 
make — I  am  so  tired  of  you  and  me  talking  dollars." 

The  first  officer  hurried  by  them,  looking  the 
other  way. 

"  I've  made  a  perfect  fright  of  myself,"  she  smiled, 
dabbing  her  fingers  at  her  eyes,  "  and  I  haven't  got 
a  handkerchief."  She  borrowed  Keith's:  "You're 
beginning  to  provide  for  me  already! " 

"  Betty,  when  will  you  marry  me?  Will  you  marry 
me  as  soon  as  we  land?  " 

"Oh!"  she  laughed,  in  the  glory  of  surrender. 
"  Are  you  so  afraid  I'll  change  my  mind?  " 

"  No.  But  I  want  to  prove  to  you  how  much  I 
mean  it.  ...  Betty!" 

"  Yes,  sir?  " 

"  You've  never  called  me  '  Dick.' ' 

"  I  think  '  Richard  '  suits  you  much  better;  you 
aren't  '  Dick '  a  bit.  Do  they  call  you  '  Dick '  ?  " 

"  No — very  few  people  do." 


54  THE    HOUSE    OF   LYNCH 

"Then  7  shall— Dick!" 

"Betty!" 

"  You'll  know  that  name  soon! " 

"  Where  shall  we  live?  " 

"  Dear,"  she  pouted,  "  let's  live  in  a  moonbeam 
to-night.  Don't  let's  be  practical  yet — I  don't  want 
to  be  practical  any  more.  It  doesn't  matter  where 
we  live — if  I  make  you  happy." 

At  the  piano  somebody  sang  again.  The  lyric  did 
not  reach  her,  but  the  melody  harmonised  with  the 
music  of  her  mood.  Presently  the  ship's  bells  jarred, 
startling  them  to  the  remembrance  of  time.  "  We 
must  go  down  to  Dardy,"  she  murmured. 

"Will  you  say  'good-night'  to  me  first?" 

Now,  where  they  leant  there  was  no  one  in  view 
— she  saw  nothing  but  him,  and  the  sea,  and  the 
stars.  He  drew  nearer  still.  Her  eyes  closed. 

Oh,  it  was  worth  it,  worth  it  a  thousandfold!  She 
was  sure  she  would  think  so  as  long  as  she  lived. 


DARDY  WALDEHAST  was  less  optimistic.  She  divined 
the  engagement  directly  they  returned  to  the  draw- 
ing-room, but  she  attributed  capitulation  to  the 
wrong  side.  It  was  not  till  she  was  in  Betty's  par- 
lour with  her,  and  the  steward  had  left  them  to  their 
bovril  and  toast,  that  she  was  staggered  by  the  facts. 
She  stared,  with  her  spoon  half-way  to  her  mouth. 

"  And  what  do  you  imagine  your  father's  going  to 
say? "  she  demanded.  "  You  don't  imagine  for  a 
moment  he'll  allow  it,  do  you  ?  " 

"  I  mean  to  write  to  him  at  once;  I'll  mail  the 
letter  from  Queenstown.  It's  my  own  life — if  I'm 
satisfied,  nobody  else  has  any  reason  to  complain. 
.  .  .  Oh,  put  it  down  and  be  nice,  Dardy — I  feel 
so  happy  and  so  good,  and  I  don't  want  to  think 
about  anything  horrid!  " 

They  sat  on  the  sofa,  with  their  arms  round  each  other. 

"  I'd  never  have  believed  it  of  you!  .  .  .  When  is 
it  supposed  to  be?  Is  he  coming  back  to  New  York 
with  us?  " 

55 


56  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

"  What  for?  I  won't  go  back  to  New  York.  We'll 
live  in  London — we  shall  be  married  in  London." 

"  Will  your  father  come  over?  " 

Betty's  eyes  grew  solemn.  "  I  don't  know,"  she 
said  pensively,  "  I've  been  wondering.  I've  got  to 
tell  him,  you  see,  that  he  mustn't  settle  anything  on 
me — that  I've  promised  not  to  take  it.  He  can't 
be  expected  to  be  keen  on  meeting  Dick  after  that! 
.  .  .  And  even  if  he  did  care  to  come,  it'd  be  rather 
— rather  painful  for  us  all,  wouldn't  it?  I  don't 
want " — she  plucked  at  her  friend's  lace-^-"  I  don't 
want  to  have  a  father  there  that  Dick  feels  such 
things  about.  How  can  I?  It'll  be  Dick's  wedding 
too!  I — I  think  the  church  should  be  quite  sweet 
for  us  both  when  he  marries  me." 

The  other  woman  kissed  her,  and  they  sat  silent. 

"My  father's  in  the  Trust  as  well,"  she  said  at 
last  hesitatingly. 

"  Yes." 

"  7've  never  worried." 

"  You  did  one  day,  Dardy.  Do  you  remember?  " 

"  We  were  kids  then — and  thought  we  were  hero- 
ines. What's  the  good  of  making  our  lives  a  misery? 
We  can't  alter  it.  Besides,  I  don't  believe  it's  so  bad 
as  they  say;  it's  all  nonsense.  Nobody  has  a  word 
to  say  against  Hal — and  Hal  never  .fussed  about  my 
dollars.  .  .  .  It's  an  awful  pity — there's  not  one 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  57 

man  in  a  million  who  would  be  such  a  fool.  I  don't 
know  why  it  should  happen  to  you  to  meet  him! 
...  Well,  if  your  father  doesn't  come  over  for  it, 
who'll  be  there?  " 

"Why,  you!" 

"  I  can't  do  it,  dear — you  mustn't  let  me  in  for 
that!  It  isn't  what  I  was  brought  for.  He'd  be 
mad  with  me!  And  anyhow,  I  can't  stay  more 
than  the  month — you  don't  mean  to  have  it  within 
a  month?  " 

"I — I  don't  know,"  said  Betty;  "yes,  I  expect 
we  will.  I  won't  want  to  buy  a  trousseau.  ...  I 
shall  write  my  father  all  you  say;  he  can't  say  it's 
your  fault." 

"  I'd  never  have  believed  it  of  you! "  said  the 
other  again.  "  One  thing Well !  " 

"What's  that?" 

"  Well,  of  course,  it  needn't  last — you  can  always 
have  it  your  own  way  afterwards.  But " 

The  girl  shook  her  head,  startled.  "  I  wouldn't  do 
that!"  she  breathed.  "That's  over — I'm  being  real 
with  him."  Her  gaze  remained  wide  and  introspec- 
tive. "  I  wish  you  hadn't  said  that!  " 

"  I'm  sorry." 

"  You  don't  know  how  I  wish  we  hadn't  schemed 
that  day!  I  hate  myself  for  having  shammed  to 
him.  It'd  be  lovely  if  I  hadn't  meant  him  to  come, 


58  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

and  he  had  just  surprised  me  here  as  he  thinks  he 

has.  I'd  like  it  all  to  have  been  quite  true." 

Mrs.  Waldehast  grimaced.  "  You'll  make  me  en- 
vious in  a  minute — /  shall  never  have  those  cranky 
and  beautiful  emotions  any  more!  .  .  .  You'd  better 
drink  that  now,  and  turn  in  and  dream  of  him.  Pull 
the  bedclothes  up  high,  or  your  wings'll  take  cold! 
I'm  not  going  to  talk  sense  to  you  again  to-night." 

But  she  talked  to  Keith  on  the  morrow. 

"  You  know,  Mr.  Keith,"  she  said,  "  I  feel  a  great 
responsibility.  Betty's  father  has  trusted  her  to  me, 
and  I  can't  stand  by  and  see  her  spoil  her  life.  You 
must  know  as  well  as  I  do  that  this  won't  work — we 
don't  live  in  a  romance." 

The  throbbing  of  the  steamer  was  very  loud  in  his 
ears.  "  You  think  I  am  behaving  badly  to  her?  "  he 
asked,  when  he  found  his  voice. 

"  I  think  you  are  behaving  badly  to  yourself.  Mr. 
Lynch  is  devoted  to  her;  he  would  consent  to  any- 
thing to  make  her  happy.  If  you  refuse  to  let  him 
help  you,  you  are  wilfully  turning  your  back  on  a 
fortune/' 

"  She  is  prepared  to  live  on  less  than  I  can  offer 
her,"  he  pleaded. 

"Prepared!  Have  you  any  notion  of  what  she  is 
used  to?  She  has  had  her  own  account  since  she 
was  eighteen,  and  the  bank  has  been  told  to  honour 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  59 

her  cheques  to  any  extent.  My  husband  is  a  rich 
man,  but  Betty  has  spent  as  much  in  a  year  on 
nothing  particular  as  I  have  spent  on  my  house; 
everything  solid  has  been  paid  for  by  her  father." 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  don't  imagine  that  I  under- 
value what  she's  doing,"  he  exclaimed.  "  It's  the 
grandest  thing  that  a  girl  ever  did  for  a  man.  I  know 
that  nothing,  nothing  on  my  side  can  be  enough 
to I'll  worship  her  for  it.  She's  brave  indeed! " 

"  She's  in  love!  I  don't  quarrel  with  her  for  that 
— I'm  not  much  older  than  she  is;  but  I'm  a  mar- 
ried woman,  and  on  this  point  I'm  older  than  the 
two  of  you.  While  a  girl's  in  love,  everything  the 
man  says  is  a  law  of  the  Medes  and  Persians  to  her, 
she  sees  with  his  eyes;  but  afterwards,  if  she  has 
any  more  backbone  than  porridge-and-cream,  she 
begins  to  sit  up  and  survey  for  herself  again.  I  can't 
argue  about  Mr.  Lynch's  commercial  reputation,  / 
don't  pretend  to  understand  finance" — Keith  did 
not  miss  the  reflection — "  but  I  do  understand 
Betty,  and  I  tell  you  that  if  you  think  her  conver- 
sion to  your  view  is  anything  but  the  fizz  of  the 
moment,  you  are  making  a  big  mistake.  You  will 
spare  yourself  and  her  a  great  deal  of  unnecessary 
pain  by  listening  to  reason  at  the  start." 

"  If  you  mean  *  by  taking  help  from-  her  father/  " 
he  stammered,  "  I  can't  do  it  at  the  start,  or  at  any 


60  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

other  time.  Betty  thoroughly  understands  that.  I'm 

sorry  if  I  sound  hard." 

He  sounded,  on  the  contrary,  very  weak.  It  is 
one  thing  to  have  intense  convictions,  and  another 
to  uphold  them  to  strangers.  Keith  would  never 
have  swayed  mobs,  he  was  too  sensitive  to  a  jeer. 
He  felt  like  a  boy  beside  her,  nervous,  shamefaced. 

"Well!"  her  gesture  was  resigned,  "you  are  en- 
titled to  your  principles,  of  course;  but  I  tell  you 
frankly  I  think  that,  having  the  objection  that  you 
have,  you  did  very  wrong  in  the  first  instance  to 
propose  to  her." 

In  the  first  instance,  however,  she  had  proposed  to 
him. 

"  Do  you  mean  that  I  ought  to  give  her  up?  " 
he  said  unsteadily.  "  I'm  so  fond  of  her,  Mrs.  Walde- 
hast — you're  a  woman,  you  ought  to  know  how 
much  I  mean  it!  But  if  she  wished  she  hadn't  mar- 
ried me  it'd  be  terrible;  I'd  rather  it  came  to  nothing 
than  make  her  wretched  for  life.  Do  you  mean  that 
I  ought  to  give  her  up?  " 

Dardy  Waldehast  flinched.  A  vision  of  Betty  as- 
sailed her — Betty  at  white  heat,  Betty  demanding 
wrathfully  "  how  she  dared?  "  After  all,  was  the  re- 
sponsibility so  great  as  she  asserted?  There  would 
be  plenty  of  time  for  Lynch  to  take  decisive  meas- 
ures if  he  chose! 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  61 

"  I  don't  mean  anything  of  the  sort,"  she  said;  "  I 
mean  that  you  should  agree  to  her  father  making 
a  settlement.  All  she'll  bring  you,  if  y<ou  don't,  is 
about  a  hundred  pounds  a  year — her  grandfather 
left  her  twenty  thousand  dollars  when  she  was  a 
child.  Unless  you  object  to  that  too?  " 

"  It's  the  first  I've  heard  of  it,"  he  said.  "  But 
why  should  I  object?  My  objection  is  not  to  marry- 
ing a  girl  with  money,  but  to  living  on  atrocious 
money.  Surely  the  difference  is  plain  enough? " 

"  Atrocious  "  rent  veils.  But  her  own  father  was 
less  prominent,  Keith  knew  nothing  of  him — it 
was  needless  to  challenge  the  word.  Her  thoughts 
darted  to  the  scene  of  which  Betty  had  reminded  her 
— for  a  primitive  moment  she  was  a  girl  again,  re- 
volted, confiding  to  her  friend  that  she  would  "  run 
away  and  go  into  a  store."  Yes,  she  had  fancied  she 
was  a  heroine  then!  She  regained  her  composure  be- 
fore the  man  could  notice  there  was  anything  amiss. 
When  he  turned  to  her  she  was  back  in  her  world. 

"  Well,  you  mustn't  be  vexed  with  me  for  my 
opinion! "  she  said  urbanely;  "  I  wanted  a  chat  with 
you  because  I've  a  great  affection  for  her,  but  that 
doesn't  mean  that  I  don't  like  you."  » 

"  I  shall  always  be  deeply  grateful  to  you,  Mrs. 
Waldehast,"  he  sighed;  "I  only  wish  you  didn't 
think  me  so  inhuman." 


62  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

His  misgivings  had  rushed  back  to  him,  intensi- 
fied. He  was  "  entitled  to  his  principles,"  but  was 
he  entitled  to  force  them  upon  Betty?  Her  consent 
was  the  "  fizz  of  the  moment "  ?  Then  she  would 
live  to  bewail  it!  For  there  could  be  no  going  back 
afterwards;  if  she  accepted  the  condition,  she  ac- 
cepted it  for  good  and  all.  Was  he  being  fair  to  her 
in  taking  her  at  her  word?  There  must  be  a  serious 
talk  between  them  to-day! 

But  when  he  was  alone  with  her  in  her  parlour, 
during  the  afternoon,  he  wondered  how  to  broach 
the  subject.  His  relief  was  as  great  as  his  surprise 
when  she  said  archly,  "  So  you've  been  having  a  bad 
time?  Well,  you  aren't  going  to  lose  me  if  you  don't 
want  to — don't  worry!" 

"She  told  you?"  he  exclaimed.  "  You  know?" 
Her  laughter  brimmed  over;  the  ingenuousness  of 
Man  was  comic.  "  No,  she  didn't  tell  me;  there  are 
things  that  don't  want  telling,  they  shout  for  them- 
selves. I  saw  you  when  you  were  drooping  round 
with  her.  What  is  it  you're  trying  to  say  to  me? 
Come  to  momma  and  'fess! " 

"  Betty,"  he  said,  "  I  can't  joke  about  it,  I'm  very 
much  in  earnest." 

She  put  her  hands  behind  her  back,  and  her  head 
to  one  side:  "  Are  you  going  to  bid  me  an  eternal 
farewell?"  she  rippled.  "It  isn't  'the  time,  and  the 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  63 

place,  and  the  loved  one  all  together '  now,  because 
I  don't  feel  like  being  pathetic  a  bit!" 

"  Will  you  listen  to  me?  I  want  you  to  be  serious. 
Will  you,  sweetest?" 

Her  sunshine  faded.  She  sat  down  slowly.  "  Go 
on,  then,"  she  said,  raising  big  eyes. 

"  She's  very  fond  of  you.  So  am  I,  but  perhaps 
my  kind  of  love  is  bound  to  be  more  selfish  than  hers. 
/  want  you — she  only  wants  to  see  you  happy;  her 
judgment  here  is  better  than  mine.  .  .  .  It's  because 
she's  very  fond  of  you  that  she  spoke.  She  doesn't 
think  that  I've  the  right  to  let  you  do  what  you  pro- 
mised; she's  sure  you'd  be  sorry  for  it  afterwards.  I 
know  you  don't  think  so  now,  but  it's  quite  true  that 
the  time  may  come  when  you'll  feel  that  you  acted 
like  a  madwoman — when  you'd  give  anything  on 
earth  to  be  able  to  undo  the  mistake.  Remember  that 
you  will  never  be  able  to  undo  it!  You  aren't  making 
the  sacrifice  for  six  months,  Betty,  or  for  a  year,  but 
for  always.  And  by  and  by,  the  gilt  will  be  off  the  gin- 
gerbread, and  the  gingerbread  may  taste  awfully 
stale,  my  love.  That's  all  I  can  say,  but  I  want  you  to 
think  it  over  well,  and  to  have  a  long  talk  with  her." 

"  Do  you  suppose  I  haven't  heard  what  she's  got 
to  say  already? "  she  replied  proudly.  "  What  can 
she  tell  you  about  my  feelings?  She  can  only  answer 
for  her  own.  Is  it  Dardy  Waldehast  you  want  to 


64  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

marry  or  me?  "  Her  chin  went  up.  "  I  daresay  all 
you  have  said  is  very  honourable  and  high-minded 
and  well  meant,  but  I  find  it  no  compliment.  I 
promised  to  be  your  wife;  I  am  not  a  little  child, 
to  have  a  gift  handed  back  to  her  and  be  told  that 
she  doesn't  know  what  she's  doing." 

"Betty!" 

"  I  am  an  American  girl,  and " 

"  You're  the  dearest  girl  in  the  world,  but " 

"  And  I  know  my  own  mind.  You  offend  me  when 
you  speak  to  me  as  if  you  thought  I  was  a  fool.  If  it's 
only  my  face  you're  in  love  with,  I  can't  be  very  much 
to  you;  New  York  is  full  of  men  who're  in  love  with 
me  like  that.  I  imagined  your  love  was  for  myself." 

"  I  love  every  mood  of  you!  I  love  you  when 
you're  cross  with  me,  and  I  love  you  when  you  cry 
— and  I  love  you  when  you  laugh  and  your  eyes 
turn  blue  and  you  show  that  dimple  in  that  cheek!  " 

Betty's  chin  was  still  disdainful.  But  the  corner  of 
her  lips  seemed  to  promise  the  dimple's  dawn. 

"  Of  course,"  she  began,  in  her  stateliest  tones, 
"  if  you  are  alarmed  at  the  prospect "  His  in- 
terruption couldn't  be  overlooked.  "  You  don't  de- 
serve it!"  she  demurred,  melting.  "Well  then! 
Don't  be  unkind  to  me  any  more.  ...  I  had  some- 
thing quite  important  to  say  to  you  when  you 
started  that  foolishness,  you  silly  boy!" 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  65 

"God  bless  you!"  exclaimed  Keith.  "I'll  never 
start  it  again;  it's  over!  What  is  it  you  were  going 
to  say?  " 

She  stroked  his  hair  the  wrong  way.  "  I  have  been 
thinking,"  she  said,  "  that  I  can't  be  mean  and  keep 
our  news  secret;  I  must  write  from  Queenstown— 
or,  anyhow,  as  soon  as  we're  in  London." 

He  nodded.  "  Of  course." 

"  It'd  be  rather  horrid  of  me  to  leave  people  in  the 
dark  about  it.  Besides,  Dardy's  sure  to  write  to  him!" 

"  You  mean  your  father  will  try  to  prevent  it?  " 

"  No,  I  don't;  I  am  my  own  mistress.  But  " — she 
hesitated — "  it's  just  possible  he  may  decide  to  come 
over  for  it,  though  he  won't  be  best  pleased.  I  think  I'd 
rather  be  married  to  you  quite  quietly,  with  nobody 
there  but  her  and Do  you  want  any  relations?  " 

"  I've  none  that  I  see  much  of.  Yes,  that's  how 
I'd  like  it  to  be,  that's  just  what  I'd  have  chosen!" 
he  said  thankfully.  "  If  you're  sure  you're  not  doing 
it  merely  for  me?  " 

"  I'd  like  it  best  myself.  .  .  .  Well,  do  you  think  it 
could  be  arranged — would  it  be  too  soon  to  please  you  ?" 

"  Too  soon?  "  he  queried  densely. 

"I  couldn't  cable  'don't  come';  I  can't  do  that! 
Don't  you  see?  " 

He  groped  confused  among  these  feminine  subtle- 
ties. "  I'm  afraid  I'm  stupid." 


66  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

She  could  not  deny  it,  but  there  was  something 
of  maternal  pity  in  her  touch.  "  The  only  thing  I 
can  do,"  she  explained  patiently,  "  is  to  say  in  my 
letter  that  I'm  marrying  you  before — before  any- 
body could  get  there.  It'd  be  quite  two  weeks  be- 
fore anyone  could  arrive.  Would  you  care  to,  are 
you  so  impatient  as  all  that?  " 

"  I'd  like  to  marry  you  the  day  we  land!  "  he  cried, 
with  enthusiasm;  "  I'll  get  a  special  licence!  I  don't 
know  how  long  it  takes,  but " 

"  That's  just  what  I  was  wondering,"  she  said. 
"  How  do  you  find  out?  " 

"  I  suppose  you  ask  people,"  said  Keith  vaguely. 
"  It  never  occurred  to  me  to  wonder  how  anybody 
got  married.  Evidently  it's  not  difficult." 

"It's  always  happening,  isn't  it?"  said  Betty.  "I 
expect  there  are  books  that  tell  you.  An  encyclo- 
paedia wouldn't  give  it,  would  it?  " 

"  Whitaker!  "  he  said,  "  I  should  think  Whitaker 
would  give  it.  Perhaps  there's  one  in  the  smoking- 
room  or  the  purser's  office." 

They  rang  the  bell,  and  inquired.  The  steward 
believed  that  there  was  no  Whitaker  in  the  smoking- 
room  or  the  purser's  office;  but,  gathering  that  the 
matter  was  urgent,  he  volunteered  the  fact  that  the 
head  steward  had  an  old  copy  in  his  cabin. 

"Well,  go  and  ask  the  head  steward  if  he  will 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  67 

oblige  me  by  lending  it  to  me  for  five  minutes," 
said  Betty. 

And  she  and  Keith  bent  their  heads  together  over 
the  index. 

"  '  Marriage  '  !  he  read  triumphantly.  "  Here  we 
are!  'Marriage  before  Registrar' — they  put  that 
first.  You  wouldn't,  though,  would  you?  " 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  I  don't  want  a  stuffy  wedding 
like  that.  I'd  like  a  little  church,  quite  simple,  and 

very,  very  old,  with  ivy  on  it,  and But  we  won't 

find  that  in  the  book!  Let's  see  what  comes  next! 
— We  can't  attend  to  business  if  you  try  to  kiss 
my  fingers,  Dick ! — '  British  Subjects  Abroad,'  '  By 
Banns '  " 

"  Banns  take  three  Sundays,"  he  said.  "  I  know; 
my  father  was  a  clergyman." 

"  Is  that  so?  I  never  knew  that!  I  won — I  won- 
der if  that's  why  you're  so  good?  " 

He  laughed,  colouring.  "  '  Marriage  Licences,  Of- 
fice for' — page  180!  Don't  these  leaves  stick!" 

"  They've  put  it  on  the  same  page  as  the  Bank- 
ruptcy Department!"  she  said  indignantly.  "  Now, 
isn't  that  tactless?  You  go  to  Knightrider  Street 
— from  ten  till  four.  Well,  just  listen  to  this!  '  Of- 
fice for  granting  marriage  licences,  and  Court  of 
Peculiars'  !  Aren't  they  rude?  Oh,  this  is  all  prosy, 
let's  try  back!  .  .  .  'Certificates'!  We  haven't  seen 


68  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

'  Certificates.'  I  daresay  they'll  tell  us  all  about  it — 

there  are  two  pages  of  them." 

Keith  took  the  book.  "This  is  it,"  he  said: 
"'Special  licences/  that's  what  I  want!  'Are 
granted  by  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury '  " 

"  The  Archbishop  of  Canterbury !  That's  just 
splendid!"  chirruped  Betty. 

"  '  Under  special  circumstances '  " 

"That's  us!" 

" '  For  marriage  at  any  place,  with  or  without 
previous  residence  in  the  district,  or  at  any  time,  et 
cetera.'  Well,  they  couldn't  say  more!" 

"  They  do  " — she  leant  over  his  shoulder;  "  you're 
skipping  the  fees." 

"  The  fees  don't  matter  twopence." 

"  I  can't  sanction  anything  approaching  extrava- 
gance," said  Betty  severely.  "  I  hope  I  am  not 
marrying  an  extravagant  man?  Anyhow,  you  aren't 
through  yet,  there's  a  '  But.'  "  She  pointed.  "  '  But 
the  reasons  assigned  must  be  such  as  to  meet  with 
his  Grace's  approval.'  Oh!  Do  you  think  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury  would  approve  of  our  reasons, 
Dick,  if  you  put  them  to  him  very  nicely?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Keith;  "  I've  never  met  him. 
Wait  a  minute — '  Licences  are  of  two  kinds,'  let's 
try  the  other!  .  .  .  'Licence  is  available  as  soon  as 
it  is  issued.'  That's  sensible.  Hello,  here's  something 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  69 

in  italics,  though !  Er — '  One  of  such  parties  hath 
had  his  or  her  usual  place  of  abode  for  the  space  of 
fifteen  days  immediately  preceding  the  issuing  of  the 
licence  within  the  boundary.'  Well,  neither  of  us 
has!  I've  been  away  for  months."  The  artist's  brow 
was  harassed.  "  It's  a  very  complicated  matter,  I  had 
better  go  to  a  solicitor." 

"  There's  nothing  wrong  with  fifteen  days,"  she 
declared.  "  If  you  get  the  licence  fifteen  days  after 
I  write,  it'll  just  suit.  I  couldn't  marry  you  sooner 
than  that  and  leave  Dardy  all  alone,  after  bringing 

her  away  to  please "  She  stopped,  embarrassed. 

"  Oh,  Dick!  I  do  wish  I  had  said  '  Yes '  at  the  be- 
ginning. I've  been  so  hateful,  you  don't  know.  You 
do  forgive  me,  don't  you?  " 

"  Forgive  you!  You're  an  Angel  from  heaven!  " 

"  No,"  she  pouted,  "  you're  not  to  think  about  me 
like  that,  it'd  be  such  a  come  down  for  me  after- 
wards. Don't  love  me  for  an  angel,  Dick — I  want 
you  to  love  me  for  the  little  cat  I  am." 

He  took  her  in  his  arms,  and  pictured  the  life  they 
were  to  lead.  He  kissed  the  pout  from  her  lips  and 
the  shadow  from  her  eyes.  She  cooed  childish  names 
to  him,  and  they  laughed  together. 

This  was  the  conclusion  of  his  "  serious  talk  "  to 
her  about  giving  her  up. 


VI 

SHE  wrote  her  letter  from  the  Carlton.  She  began 
by  saying  that  "  Richard  had  been  on  the  Caronia 
too,"  and  felt  guiltily  that  her  father  would  have  no 
faith  in  the  implied  coincidence.  In  Lynch's  daugh- 
ter the  propensity  to  manoeuvre  was  even  stronger 
than  it  is  in  most  women,  but  it  disturbed  her  more 
than  it  does  most  women  to  be  found  out.  "  Dollars 
weren't  everything,  and  she  was  quite  sure  she  would 
never  repent,  and  she  was  going  to  be  married  on  the 
29th.  Dardy,  of  course,  would  be  present.  Dardy  was 
very  upset,  and  was  writing  to  him  herself." 

It  was  a  difficult  letter.  Though  she  phrased  it  as 
gently  as  she  could,  she  had  to  dwell  upon  the  point 
that  he  was  to  make  no  provision  for  her,  and  she  knew 
that  her  acceptance  of  that  condition  would  be  crush- 
ing. She  was  uncomfortably  conscious  also  that  he 
would  think  less  of  her  intelligence  for  it.  She  wanted 
to  be  alone  when  the  letter  was  done.  Mrs.  Waldehast 
heard  without  surprise  that  she  "  had  a  headache." 

But  an  hour  afterwards,  when  Keith  called  to  put 

70 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  71 

the  engagement  ring  on  her  finger,  she  was  vividly 
happy  again.  He  had  known  a  night  of  boyish  terrors 
lest  his  ring  should  look  paltry  to  her.  Not  only  was 
she  the  one  girl  in  the  world,  she  was  Miss  Lynch;  and 
although  she  had  worn  no  other  jewellery  than  a  rope 
of  pearls,  it  was  inevitable  that  she  should  compare  his 
gift  mentally  with  the  rings  of  her  friends.  His  anxiety 
had  led  him  to  choose  one  wildly  disproportionate  to 
his  position.  Her  enthusiasm  was  not  feigned  when 
he  opened  the  case.  Mrs.  Waldehast  herself  admitted 
later  that  it  was  "  just  sinfully  sweet  of  him." 

In  the  evening  he  took  them  to  the  theatre.  He 
had  been  extending  his  knowledge  of  the  marriage 
laws  meanwhile,  and  Betty  learnt  that  the  address 
of  his  studio,  near  the  Foundling,  was  an  obstacle 
in  the  way  of  the  little  church  with  ivy  on  it.  He 
had  decided  to  remove  to  rooms  "  at  Hampstead  or 
somewhere  for  the  fifteen  days — it  wouldn't  be  a 
scrap  of  trouble." 

They  argued  the  matter  in  whispers  during  the 
progress  of  the  play.  She  said  that  she  wasn't  a 
baby,  and,  with  the  best  of  bridal  egotism,  pro- 
nounced "  one  church  as  good  as  another."  He 
wasn't  to  be  silly!  When  was  that  studio  of  his  to 
be  exhibited  to  them?  She  was  eager  to  see  it. 
Talking  of  Hampstead,  wasn't  there  a  Jack  Straw's 
Castle  there?  She  doted  on  ruins — she'd  like  to  go 


72  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

over  it  one  day.  There  were  a  lot  of  other  "  sights  " 
in  London  that  she  ought  to  have  seen;  he  must  re- 
member she  was  a  foreigner.  They  compared  lists  of 
their  neglected  duties,  and  she  was  amazed  to  dis- 
cover that  the  Englishman  had  a  worse  record  than 
she.  Yes,  this  comedy  was  quite  good!  She  liked 
the  Carlton  very  much,  especially  the  servants;  but 
the  portions  in  the  restaurant  were  ridiculously  big, 
even  as  one  for  two  people — she  had  ordered  a 
lovely  dessert,  and  been  unable  to  touch  it  when  the 
time  came.  Dardy  expected  him  to  come  back  with 
them  to  supper.  He  couldn't?  That  was  horrid.  No, 
they  wouldn't  go  somewhere  with  him  instead! 
Well,  would  he  come  back  and  smoke  a  cigarette 
in  the  hall?  It  was  a  very  pleasant  evening  indeed 
— and  the  author  of  the  piece,  who  was  in  the  stalls 
behind  them,  felt  homicidal. 

The  ladies  were  entertained  at  the  studio  on  the 
next  afternoon,  and  Betty  was  secretly  dismayed  by 
its  aspect.  Flights  of  stone  steps,  and  a  sparsity  of 
comfort  after  one  had  toiled  to  the  top,  contrasted 
very  badly  with  the  studios  of  the  eminent  that  she 
had  viewed  in  Paris.  She  resolved  that  the  studio 
when  they  took  a  house  should  be  far  worthier  of 
the  august  pictures  that  she  didn't  understand. 
However,  the  host  was  so  fervidly  grateful  for  the 
visit  that  she  offered  to  repeat  the  boon. 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  73 

"  I  hope  you  didn't  mind,  Dardy — he  couldn't  have 
given  us  nicer  cakes  and  candies,  could  he  ?  " 

"  I  mind  nothing,  except  his  income,  and  the  ab- 
sence of  an  elevator,"  sighed  Mrs.  Waldehast.  "  I'm 
sure  the  tea  was  as  humorous  as  a  bad  picnic.  The 
dilapidated  crone  who  shuffled  in  with  the  cups  as 
big  as  young  wash-bowls  was  a  dream." 

There  were  various  things  for  the  lovers  to  arrange 
during  the  next  few  days.  To  determine  their  home 
before  the  29th  was  impossible,  and  they  resolved  to 
do  their  house-hunting  afterwards;  in  the  intervals, 
though,  it  would  be  fun  to  go  out  and  acquire  a  few 
necessaries  for  it — just  for  an  hour  sometimes,  when 
Dardy  didn't  feel  like  leaving  the  hotel!  They  made 
two  or  three  such  expeditions,  and  Betty  developed 
shining  virtues  in  the  process  of  qualifying  herself  for 
a  poor  man's  wife. 

She  impressed  upon  him  at  the  start  that  he  was 
to  be  "  very  careful."  She  said,  "  There  must  be  no 
more  wicked  loveliness  like  this  ring;  I  mean  it,  Dick! 
It  would  hurt  me.  You've  got  to  treat  me  like  a  sen- 
sible woman."  And  her  plan  for  coping  with  his  tend- 
ency towards  extravagance  was  charming — she  for- 
bade him  to  take  out  more  than  a  certain  amount, 
and  set  her  dainty  face  against  "  cash  on  delivery." 
"Now,  how  much  shall  it  be  this  morning?"  she 
would  say,  perpending  before  she  pinned  on  her  hat. 


74  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

It  might  be  that  they  agreed  upon  twenty  pounds, 
or  upon  five;  but,  whatever  the  sum  was,  it  had  to  be 
the  limit  of  the  morning's  expenditure.  Excepting  for 
two  shillings;  she  allowed  him  two  shillings  in  excess 
of  the  sum,  for  the  purpose  of  ice-creams. 

Then  they  would  sally  forth  in  quest  of  an  essential 
cabinet,  or  a  dinner  service,  and  come  back  the  happy 
owners  of  a  superfluous  gramophone  or  a  Nankin  jar 
with  a  branch  of  almond  blossom  in  it.  It  did  not 
occur  to  Betty,  to  dim  her  complacence,  that  they  had 
been  less  practical  to  spend  the  money  on  a  super- 
fluous gramophone  than  on  the  essential  cabinet. 
Never  did  they  spend  more  than  he  took  out! — and 
her  triumphant  air  of  self -righteousness  was  beautiful 
to  see. 

Lynch's  reply  to  the  news  came  by  cable,  and  it 
was  brief.  He  said  nothing  of  his  chagrin,  nor  did 
he  remonstrate;  but  plainly  he  had  no  belief  that  his 
daughter's  spiritual  elevation  would  be  maintained: 
"  When  you  propose  to  come  off  the  roof,  let  me 
know."  That  was  all.  It  vexed  her.  She  did  not  ask 
for  her  renunciation  to  be  acclaimed,  but  she  wished 
it  to  be  respected.  The  reward  for  being  a  heroine  is 
the  approval  of  one's  own  conscience ;  still,  it  is  annoy- 
ing when  people  don't  recognise  one's  role. 

The  cable  absolved  Mrs.  Waldehast  from  further 
responsibility,  and  she  was  able  to  countenance  the 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  75 

situation  with  a  lighter  heart  now.  At  this  stage,  too, 
it  occurred  to  Keith  that  he  ought  to  manifest  the 
relatives  of  whom  he  had  spoken.  It  would  probably 
be  the  correct  course  to  take,  though  he  contemplated 
it  with  some  aversion.  His  uncle  had  dissuaded  him 
very  strongly  from  resigning  the  clerkship,  and  always 
been  sore  with  him  for  disregarding  the  advice,  espe- 
cially so  since  his  progress  had  proved  him  right.  The 
gentleman,  moreover,  had  small  faith  in  the  possibility 
of  any  really  good  woman  being  discovered  outside  the 
United  Kingdom. 

Sir  Percival — he  had  been  knighted  during  the  last 
decade — was  proud  of  many  things.  He  was  proud  of 
his  title,  of  his  great  business,  which  had  been  quad- 
rupled since  he  succeeded  to  it,  of  his  sons  in  the  firm, 
and  his  youngest  son,  Stanley,  who  was  in  Holy  Or- 
ders; not  least  was  he  proud  of  his  reputation  for  rec- 
titude, which  stood  high  in  the  City.  But  when  he 
boasted — and  it  was  often— one  gathered  that  his  no- 
blest deed  was  to  be  born  an  Englishman. 

Like  his  nephew,  he  held  that  every  man  had  a  duty 
to  his  country,  and  his  patriotism  took  the  form  of  dis- 
paraging every  country  on  the  Continent.  He  declined 
to  cross  the  Channel ;  his  annual  holiday,  with  a  thrifty 
wife,  was  spent  in  Bognor,  or  some  other  South  Coast 
spot  equally  depressing,  to  which  they  travelled  third 
class.  "  There  is  too  much  want  in  the  world  for  us  to 


76  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

waste  money  on  self-indulgence,"  he  would  say.  But 
he  did  nothing  with  his  money  to  abate  the  want.  He 
had  admonished  his  brother  for  allowing  Richard  to 
study  art  in  Paris — first,  because  art  was  frivolous; 
and  second,  because  Paris  was  in  France.  He  frowned 
upon  alien  improvements,  although  the  insular  variety 
might  be  impracticable.  No  "  time-saving  appliance  " 
emanating  from  foreign  brains  was  ever  favoured  by 
Keith  &  Sons.  The  office  was  one  of  the  last  in  East 
India  Avenue  to  adopt  the  typewriter,  and  one  of  the 
few  that  still  exalted  the  native  mahogany  desk,  with 
drawers  that  took  five  minutes  to  lock,  over  the  trans- 
atlantic article,  in  which  they  fastened  automatically. 
Upon  America,  indeed,  Sir  Percival  was  particularly 
severe;  he  regarded  its  nation  as  swindlers  to  a  man, 
and  its  achievements  as  an  insult  to  the  British 
Throne.  No  one  could  have  seemed  less  likely  to 
favour  an  engagement  to  Lynch's  daughter. 

Still,  one  ought  to  produce  relations!  And  Mrs. 
Waldehast  had  shown  a  lively  interest  in  the  title  when 
she  heard  it.  Keith  went  to  call  upon  his  uncle  and 
aunt. 

They  had  a  large,  meagrely  furnished  house,  and 
utilitarian  grounds,  in  Clapham  Park,  which  was  not 
the  Clapham  where  Keith  and  his  mother  had  had  their 
lodgings.  There  are  four  Claphams.  Clapham  Park 
is  imposing,  Clapham  Common  is  successful,  Clapham 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  77 

Road  is  genteel,  and  Clapham  Junction  is  low.  Clap- 
ham  Park,  however,  is  as  awkward  a  neighbourhood 
to  reach  as  can  be  found  in  the  whole  of  London,  and 
a  highly  inconvenient  place  of  residence  for  anybody 
who  doesn't  keep  a  motor  car  or  a  carriage.  Sir  Per- 
cival  disapproved  of  motor  cars  and  carriages  for 
those  blessed  with  health.  On  fine  mornings,  he  walked 
briskly  to  the  station  of  the  City  and  South  London 
Railway;  on  wet  mornings,  the  livery  stables  supplied 
a  cab.  As  to  Lady  Keith's  convenience,  "  I  am  grate- 
ful to  say  that  my  dear  wife  is  vigorous,"  he  would 
explain  piously,  "  and  the  Lord  gave  her  legs."  Keith 
overtook  the  vigorous  lady  trudging  resignedly  along 
the  miles  which  have  recently  been  re-christened 
"  King's  Avenue."  She  had  been  buying  "  serviceable 
things  "  in  Brixton. 

"  Well,  I  never !  "  she  murmured.  "  I'm  just  going 
in.  Your  uncle  ought  to  be  back  by  now — I  made  him 
promise  to  come  home  early  to-day,  he's  been  poorly 
of  late.  Nothing  serious;  he's  been  suffering  with  a 
touch  of  rheumatic  neuralgia.  We  were  afraid  it  was 
his  heart,  but  the  doctor  says  it  all  comes  from  the 
same  thing.  Such  a  relief  to  us  all!  The  damp  has 
been  so  trying,  it's  pulled  him  down  terribly."  After 
an  appreciable  pause,  she  added,  "  And  how  are  you  ?  " 

"  I'm  all  right,  thanks,"  he  said.  "  I've  been  away 
— in  America." 


78  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

"Really?  Still  painting,  Richard?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Keith  drily,  "  I'm  still  painting." 

"  Your  uncle  often  speaks  of  you,"  she  an- 
nounced. 

He  tried  to  look  flattered.  The  lady  sighed.  "  And 
what  are  you  painting?"  she  asked,  in  the  tone  in 
which  she  might  have  said,  "  And  what  are  you  going 
to  be  when  you  grow  up,  my  little  man  ?  " 

They  had  reached  the  gate,  and  the  gardener  in- 
formed them  that  Sir  Percival  had  returned.  They 
found  him  in  the  drawing-room,  reading  the  evening 
papers. 

"  What,  Richard  ?  This  is  indeed  an  unexpected  hon- 
our !  "  he  exclaimed,  with  ponderous  pleasantry. 

"  How  are  you,  sir  ?  I'm  sorry  to  hear  you  have 
been  seedy." 

The  knight  related  his  symptoms.  "  Where  do  you 
spring  from  ?  "  he  inquired  at  last. 

"  He  tells  me  he  has  been  to  America,"  said  Lady 
Keith.  "  You  might  touch  the  bell,  Richard ;  I'm  dying 
for  a  cup  o'  tea." 

"  America  ?  Have  you  ?  A  strange  country !  "  He 
shook  his  head  heavily.  "  A  very  strange  country !  " 

"  A  very  wonderful  country,  sir." 

"  Wonderful  ?  Well — y-e-s,  yes,  I  suppose  it  may 
even  be  called  '  wonderful.'  Scarcely  the  word  I 
should  apply,  though,  I  think.  *  Wonderful '  suggests 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  79 
to  the  mind  something  worthy  of  admiration.  *  Won- 
derful' However!  Help  yourself  to  a  cigarette." 

He  was  smoking  a  cigar.  "  What  were  you  doing 
there?" 

"  I  went  over  to  paint  a  portrait  of  a  Society  woman, 
Mrs.  Waldehast.  I  don't  know  if  you've  heard  of 
her?" 

"  I  think  I  have  heard  the  name,"  said  Sir  Percival. 
"  A  profitable  commission  ?  " 

"  Very." 

"  Good !  I  should  like  to  see  you  have  more  en- 
couragement. I'm  afraid,  though,  that  pictures " 

He  shook  his  head  again.  "  Well,  well,  we  mustn't 
cry  over  spilt  milk!  Waldehast?  Wall  Street,  I 
think?" 

"  I  really  don't  know,"  said  Keith.  "  They're  very 
well  off,  they  entertain  a  great  deal.  .  .  .  Mrs.  Walde- 
hast is  very  intimate  with  Miss  Lynch." 

"  Lynch's  daughter  ?  "  exclaimed  his  aunt.  "  I  didn't 
know  he  had  one.  Did  you  see  him  too?  " 

"  Lynch !  "  put  in  Sir  Percival  sapiently.  "  The  true 
embodiment  of  the  American  spirit !  " 

"  Surely,  sir ?  The  outcry  against  him  in  Amer- 
ica is  a  thousand  times  stronger  than  it  is  here." 

"  My  dear  Richard  " — his  emphasis  was  touchy — 
"  the  Americans  who  cry  out  would  all  act  in  exactly 
the  same  way  if  they  had  the  power.  Commercial  in- 


8o  THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH 
tegrity  is  unknown  in  America — perfectly  unknown! 
You  have  just  given  us  an  instance;  you  speak  of  So- 
ciety people  who  are  '  very  intimate '  with  him.  Do 
you  imagine  that  English  people  in  a  similar  position 
would  be  intimate  with  a — a  notorious  scoundrel,  a 
man  who  has  defied  the  laws  of  his  country,  who 
would  be  in  prison  if  justice  were  administered  there 
as  fearlessly  as  it  is  with  Us  ?  He  is — he  is How- 
ever!" 

"  I  am  not  defending  Lynch ;  I  only  say  that  he  is 
not  typical." 

"  I  can  tell  you  of  one  incident  in  the  career  of  these 
Society  people's  intimate  acquaintance,"  went  on  Sir 
Percival,  addressing  his  wife,  for  the  benefit  of  his 
nephew.  "  The  Trust  had  arranged  a  '  deal '  in  B 
stock,  and  Lynch  ruined  a  medical  man,  with  whom  he 
was  on  most  cordial  terms,  by  deliberately  giving  to 
him,  amongst  others,  the  false  tip.  He  advised  the  man 
to  buy  as  much  B  stock  as  he  could,  and  to  buy  be- 
fore noon  the  next  day,  or  he  would  have  to  pay  twenty 
dollars  more;  the  tip  was  'confidential'  !  Of  course 
Lynch  counted  upon  his  telling  just  one  friend,  and 
upon  the  friend  telling  another,  and  so  forth.  The  quo- 
tation opened  firm  the  next  day,  nearly  every  broker 
seemed  to  have  orders  to  buy  B  stock;  but  before 
twelve  o'clock  it  was  known  that  the  Trust  had  been  a 
continuous  seller,  and  was  still  forcing  sales.  It  was 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  81 

supposed  that  something  was  wrong.  There  was  a 
panic.  Every  buyer  in  the  morning  was  a  seller  at  best 
in  the  afternoon.  The  Trust  had  sold  half  a  million 
stock  by  twelve  o'clock,  and  had  bought  it  back  be- 
fore evening  at  an  average  of  ten  points  less.  In  other 
words,  the  Trust  netted  five  million  dollars,  and  hun- 
dreds of  people  were  ruined  in  a  day  to  pay  for  it. 
Lynch's  lie  cost  the  medical  man  the  savings  of  a  life- 
time, and  he  was  found  dead  in  his  consulting  room. 
When  someone  reproached  Lynch  for  it,  he  sneered. 
'  What  of  it  ?  In  business,  everybody  for  himself ! '  he 
said." 

The  lady  signified  her  horror,  and  passed  the  but- 
tered buns.  Keith  decided  not  to  announce  his  engage- 
ment this  afternoon,  the  conversation  had  started  on 
unfortunate  lines ;  he  must  make  an  excuse  at  the  hotel. 
But  when  he  rose  to  leave,  they  would  not  hear  of  his 
going,  he  was  pressed  to  remain  and  dine.  After  all,  it 
would  be  better  to  get  the  announcement  over  before 
he  went — if  he  were  to  stay,  there  would  be  three  or 
four  hours  before  him!  He  sat  down  again,  and  his 
aunt  displayed  with  reverent  hands  a  stole  that  she 
was  embroidering  for  Stanley.  She  was  sorry  that 
Keith  hadn't  come  on  the  morrow  instead,  when  Stan- 
ley was  expected.  Sir  Percival  hospitably  interposed, 
"However!" 

It  was  a  dismal  household.  The  two  elder  boys  had 


82  THE    HOUSE    OF   LYNCH 

married  hurriedly,  and  now  that  they  had  escaped,  it 
was  duller  still.  Keith  scarcely  knew  them,  but  he  sat 
regretting  that  they  were  not  there.  Dinner  came  when 
fortitude  was  at  its  last  inch. 

The  adjournment  was  made  in  silence.  A  gloomy 
parlourmaid  stood  at  attention  by  the  sideboard.  Sir 
Percival,  erect,  muttered  in  a  deep  bass,  which  had  in 
it  something  peremptory,  "  O  Lord,  relieve  the  wants 
of  others,  and  give  us  grateful  hearts."  And,  having 
shifted  the  responsibility,  tucked  in. 

He  liked  a  good  port — his  prejudices  against  things 
Continental  stopped  short  at  vineyards — and  it  was 
when  the  port  was  reached  that  Keith  plucked  up  cour- 
age to  impart  his  news. 

"  By  the  way,"  he  began,  "  I  have  something  to  tell 
you  both :  I'm  going  to  be  married." 

"Married?"  faltered  Lady  Keith.  Her  husband 
stared. 

"  Er — we  must  congratulate  you,"  he  said. 

"Thanks  very  much.  I  hope — I  should  like  her  to 
meet  you." 

"  Oh  yes,  you  must  bring  the  lady  to  see  us  one  day. 
Your  aunt  will  be Eh,  Emily  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes,  I'm  sure,"  she  said  vaguely. 

"  An  engagement  of  long  duration  ?  " 

"  No,  it's  very  recent.  I  met  her  when  I  was  in  New 
York." 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  83 

"An  American  lady?"  He  was  raising  his  glass, 
and  it  paused  midway. 

"  Yes.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  she's  the  daughter  of 
the  man  we  were  speaking  about — Lynch.  I  need 
hardly  say  she  takes  a  very  different  view  of  things 
from  her  father.  She Nobody  could  fail  to  ad- 
mire her  in  every  respect !  She " 

"  You're  engaged  to  Lynch's  daughter  ?  "  Sir  Per- 
cival  gasped.  His  mouth  remained  ajar.  He  set  his 
wine  back  on  the  table,  untasted.  After  a  second  or 
two  he  ejaculated,  with  mingled  awe  and  incredulity, 
"You?" 

"  Lynch  ?  "  quavered  his  wife.  "  The  richest  man  in 
the  world  ?  " 

"  One  of  the  richest.  Of  course  she  doesn't  take  any 
money  from  him  now,  or  later.  I  stipulated  for  that. 
I  think,  sir  " — he  threw  back  his  head  proudly — "  I 
think  very  few  girls,  American  or  English,  could  do  a 
greater  thing  than  she  is  doing?  She  won't  touch  a 
shilling  of  his  money ;  she  is  content  to  live  on  what  I 
can  make  for  her." 

Sir  Percival  could  be  heard  breathing.  "  You  have 
stipulated  that  she  shall  take  no  money  from  him  ?  " 
he  stuttered. 

"  Naturally." 

"  Richard !  "  cried  his  aunt.  "  Why,  he  could  give 
her  millions ! " 


84  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

"  I  suppose  he  could."  He  was  beginning  to  feel 
astonished.  "  Shameful  millions !  The  amount  doesn't 
affect  the  question." 

"  My — my  dear  Richard !  "  said  Sir  Percival  ster- 
torously,  "  you  astound  me !  You  are  engaged  to 
Lynch's  daughter — and  you  oppose  his  making  a  set- 
tlement on  her,  you  oppose  his  taking  a  course  that 
is  only  fit  and  proper?  It's  inconceivable!  What — 
what  possible  justification  have  you  for  such  a — such 
an  act  of  madness  ?  " 

Dumfounded,  Keith  looked  from  the  gentleman  to 
the  lady.  She  met  him  with,  "  I  must  say  I  think 
you're  flying  in  the  face  of  Providence ! "  Her  eyes 
were  aghast. 

f(  Your  view  is  intemperate,"  continued  Sir  Per- 
cival, in  a  suaver  and  judicial  tone.  "  Let  us  be  just! 
Above  all  things,  my  dear  boy,  let  us  be  just!  The 
lady  is  his  child;  it  is  no  more  than  right  that  on  her 
marriage  with  one  less  richly  blessed  with  worldly 
possessions  her  father  should  provide  for  her  main- 
tenance in  the  style  she  is  accustomed  to.  It  is  his 
duty.  You  do  not — if  you  will  allow  me  to  point  it 
out  to  you — you  do  not  influence  him  to  fulfil  the 
many  duties  that  he  neglects  already  by  resisting  his 
fulfilment  of  one  more!  You  are  marrying  her,  I 
take  it,  from  motives  of — er — esteem,  and  so  forth; 
your  sentiments  cannot  be  in  any  way  impugned  by 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  85 

your  participating  in  her  financial  advantages.  It 
devolves  upon  you  to  do  so.  My  own  sense  of  hon- 
our " — he  said  it  in  large  capitals — "  is,  I  think,  suf- 
ficiently well  known  for  my  assurance  on  the  matter 
to  have  some  weight." 

Keith  felt  very  young,  and  was  very  contemptu- 
ous of  himself  for  being  disconcerted.  Momentarily 
he  was  bending  over  a  ledger  again,  nervous  at  the 
sound  of  his  stately  uncle's  footstep  in  the  outer 
office. 

"  Do  you  consider  that  Lynch's  money  has  been 
fairly  made?  "  he  asked.  "  The  whole  thing  resolves 
itself  into  that." 

It  was  the  other's  turn  to  be  disconcerted.  His 
denunciation  of  Lynch  was  awkwardly  recent.  He 
sighed.  "  This  takes  me  back — I  recognise  your 
mother ! "  he  murmured.  "  How  I  warned  her  against 
those  wretched  shares!  You  remember,  Emily?  She 
also  was However !  " 

Keith  squared  his  jaw.  Was  he  to  assert  himself 
only  to  poor  little  Betty? 

"  I'm  afraid  we're  wandering  from  the  point.  The 
point  is  that  I — in  common  with  the  rest  of  the  world 
— regard  Lynch's  millions  as  damned " 

"Hush!"  The  knight's  white  hand  expostulated. 

"  I  beg  Aunt  Emily's  pardon — and  yours,  if  I  have 
shocked  you.  We  say  that  a  fortune  which  has  been 


86  THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH 
acquired  by  wholesale  trickery  and  oppression  is  an 
infamous  fortune,  that  one  man  has  no  right  to  use 
his  abnormal  wealth  to  crush  a  poorer  multitude  out 
of  existence.  In  half  the  States  of  America  he  has 
ground  men  to  their  death,  and  forced  women  and 
girls  to  worse  than  death " 

"  Really,  I  must  remonstrate!  Such  allusions  are 
unseemly."  His  nostrils  exhaled  virtue.  The  lady 
pursed  her  mouth;  if  she  had  worn  a  fringe,  her  eye- 
brows would  have  disappeared  altogether. 

"  And  we  hold  him  accursed  for  it ! "  concluded 
Keith  doggedly.  "  If  we  admit  we  were  mistaken 
in  thinking  such  methods  evil,  then  he  is  owed  a 
world- wide  apology;  but  while  we  continue  to  think 
what  we  do  of  them,  the  man  who  was  willing  to 
profit  by  the  methods  would  be  as  culpable  as 
Lynch!" 

Sir  Percival  tapped  the  table,  musing.  He  rose, 
and  forced  a  smile. 

"Always  headstrong,  Richard!"  He  said,  with  af- 
fectionate regret;  "always  self-willed!" 

The  drawing-room  was  more  oppressive  than  be- 
fore, and  the  visitor  said  "  good-night "  as  early  as 
he  could.  Lady  Keith,  who  had  resumed  her  rever- 
ential stitches  for  the  clergyman,  repeated  her 
counsel  against  "  flying  in  the  face  of  Providence  " 
as  she  turned  a  cheek  to  be  saluted.  The  knight 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  87 

magnanimously  asked  for  "  Miss  Lynch's  address, 
that  we  may  call  upon  our  future  niece." 

They  called,  and  toadied  her. 

This  was  Keith's  first  experience  of  the  advice  that 
people  had  to  give  him. 

His  second  was  with  Tomlinson.  Tomlinson  shared 
a  studio  in  the  same  block,  and  had  chanced  to  be 
presented  to  Betty  and  Mrs.  Waldehast  one  day 
when  they  came.  He  was  an  elderly  little  failure, 
with  an  unobservant  manner  and  acute  observation 
— for  everything  except  landscape,  which  he  painted. 
Apparently  he  had  been  unconscious  that  the  ladies 
were  worth  looking  at,  but  the  next  time  he  met 
Keith  on  the  stairs  he  said  timidly,  "  It  was  a  treat 
to  see  those  friends  of  yours.  They're  the  kind  that 
glide  and  sink." 

"That  do  what?" 

"  They  move  and  sit  down  properly — the  right 
sort  of  women  glide  and  sink;  the  others  bounce  and 
bump.  I  should  like  to  see  them  again." 

"  I  daresay  you  will,"  said  Keith.  "  Come  inside 
and  have  a  drink." 

Tomlinson  crept  in,  with  his  hands  in  his  trouser- 
pockets  and  his  pipe  between  his  teeth.  With  early 
training,  he  might  have  been  a  successful  journalist, 
or  perhaps  a  detective;  an  enthusiasm  for  art  had 
condemned  him  to  cheerfulness  upon  a  pittance,  and 


88  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

other  men's  whisky.  But  for  a  relative  somewhere, 

he  would  have  starved. 

"  Done  anything  with  the  studies  you  brought 
back  from  America  yet?  "  he  inquired. 

"  No,  I  haven't  been  working,  I'm  not  in  the  vein. 
Are  you  busy?  " 

Tomlinson  nodded  absently.  He  had  been  busy 
making  the  round  with  a  couple  of  sketches  and  fail- 
ing to  sell  them.  His  feet  ached.  Presently  he  would 
put  the  canvases  back  on  the  easel  and  devoutly 
admire  them.  Mercifully  he  did  not  know  that  he 
couldn't  paint,  and  nobody  but  a  dealer  would  have 
been  brutal  enough  to  say  so  to  his  sensitive  face. 

"  Tomlinson,  I'm  going  to  be  married." 

Tomlinson  smiled  pensively.  "  Well!  "  he  said,  not 
committing  himself. 

"  To  Miss  Lynch,  the  lady  you  saw  here.  I  shall 
be  giving  this  place  up  as  soon  as  I  can.  Know 
anyone  who'd  like  to  take  it  off  my  hands?  " 

Tomlinson  reflected.  Not  that  there  was  the 
slightest  prospect  of  his  suggesting  a  tenant,  but  it 
had  the  air  of  being  "  more  in  the  swim  "  to  reflect. 
"  No,"  he  said,  "  at  the  moment  I  can't  say  I  do. 
When  is  to  be?  " 

"  On  the  29th." 

"So  soon!  No  relation  to  Lynch,  I  suppose?  She 
is  an  American,  I  think?  " 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  89 

"Yes.  She's  his  daughter." 

"  My  dear  fellow! "  gasped  Tomlinson,  dropping 
his  pipe.  "I  say!  I  do  congratulate  you,  upon  my 
word.  Lynch's  daughter!  You  aren't  joking?" 

"  Oh,  no,  it's  right  enough." 

"And  is  he — agreeable?" 

"  Well,  I  don't  exactly  know;  it  doesn't  much 
matter.  I'm  marrying  her  because  I'm  fond  of  her, 
not  because  her  father  is  a  millionaire." 

"Oh,  just  so,  just  so!"  said  Tomlinson  hastily. 
"  Still,  a  million  or  two  to  go  on  with — what? 
'  Giving  this  place  up '  ? "  He  laughed.  "  Yes,  I 
suppose  you  will!  We — we  shan't  be  able  to  know 
you  soon,  eh?  " 

Keith  explained,  at  some  length,  and  Tomlinson 
listened  with  dumb  attention.  Then  he  chuckled 
knowingly: 

"  You're  pulling  my  leg! "  he  said. 

"  I'm  perfectly  serious.  Why  should  it  astonish 
you?  You  know  what  the  Trust  is.  I  think  I've 
heard  you  rather  eloquent  on  the  subject." 

"  Oh,  as  far  as  that  goes All  the  same,  I  mean  to 

say Well,  it's  going  rather  to  extremes,  isn't  it?  " 

"  What  is?  Not  to  pocket  one's  conscience  when 
there's  money  to  be  made  by  it?  " 

"My  dear  chap!  'Pocket  one's  conscience'?  It 
isn't  a  question  of  anything  of  the  sort.  The  ques- 


90  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

tion  is  what  good  do  you  do?  That's  what  you've 
got  to  look  at — what  good  do  you  do  ?  "  In  view  of 
millions  declined,  the  gentle,  deprecatory  little  man 
grew  excited,  even  dogmatic.  "  Is  anybody  bene- 
fited, does  it  improve  matters  in  any  way?  The 
Trust  goes  on  whether  you're  sensible  or  whether 
you  choose  to  sacrifice  a  fortune  to  a  theory.  No 
one  will  thank  you  for  such  a  piece  of  quixotism,  no 
one  will  have  any  reason  to  thank  you!  I  think 
I  may  say  my  honesty  is  above  the  average,  but 
I  tell  you  frankly  /  should  have  no  scruples."  Et 
cetera. 

Then  there  was  Premlow,  whose  "  Shelling  the 
Peas"  and  "How  Does  it  Suit  Me?"  had  both 
been  immortalised  in  Summer  Numbers,  and  framed 
in  so  many  lodging-houses.  Premlow's  argument 
was  that  one  would  be  more  than  justified  in  lux- 
uriating on  a  scandalous  income  if  one  devoted  a 
considerable  portion  of  one's  wealth  to  charities. 
"  A  far  more  practical  form  of  what  d'ye  call  it,  my 
dear  boy,  than  riding  the  high  horse!"  And  there 
was  Tracey  Wynne,  the  literary  stylist,  who  ejacu- 
lated "  Rot! "  And  there  was  the  sceptic  who  was 
reminded  of  Carlyle's  philosophy  when  his  wife  was 
excruciated  with  toothache — "  It  will  not  be  perma- 
nent." It  was  remarkable  how  the  news  spread,  and 
with  what  promptitude  many  people  who  had  called 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  91 

Lynch's  business  methods  "  an  outrage  on  human- 
ity "  would  have  accepted  a  share  of  his  profits. 

For  the  honeymoon,  Paris  had  been  suggested. 
Betty  had  travelled  on  the  Continent  much  more 
than  Keith,  but  she  had  missed,  or  forgotten,  most 
of  the  things  that  he  craved  to  see  there.  From 
Rome  she  had  brought  only  a  vague  remembrance 
of  the  Michael  Angelos — "  '  The  Eternal  Separating 
Light  from  Darkness  "  was  one  of  the  frescoes  on 
the  ceiling  somewhere,  wasn't  it?"  She  had  spent  a 
week  in  Vienna,  but  was  not  sure  if  she  had  seen 
Rembrandt's  portrait  of  his  mother.  In  Dresden,  the 
Sistine  Madonna  had  been  impressed  on  her  mind 
chiefly  by  the  fact  that  it  was  reproduced  on  all  the 
postcards  in  the  shop  windows.  Eager  to  be  a  com- 
panion, she  had  told  Keith  that  he  must  take  her  to 
the  Louvre  and  teach  her  to  understand;  he  must 
explain  to  her  why  the  pictures  that  he  loved  best 
were  beautiful.  And  he  had  promised,  promising 
himself  at  the  same  time  not  to  bore  her.  Then  she 
decided  that  she  would  prefer  the  country  in  Eng- 
land— "  that  would  be  new  to  her."  She  refrained 
from  adding  that  Paris,  visited  economically,  would 
also  be  new  to  her,  and  less  pleasantly  so.  They 
wanted  rusticity  without  discomfort,  rural  scenes  to 
wander  in,  and  civilised  quarters  to  return  to.  Fi- 
nally, an  hotel  between  Tunbridge  Wells  and  the 


92  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

village  of  Rusthall  was  chosen.  If  the  weather  were 
kind,  the  situation  would  fulfil  their  requirements 
perfectly;  and  if  it  were  wayward,  they  would  try 
the  other  side  of  the  Channel  after  all. 

On  the  evening  of  the  28th,  Betty  opened  a  door 
and  saw  her  maid  packing  for  her.  The  wardrobe 
that  was  to  serve  as  her  trousseau  was  not  particu- 
larly extensive,  nor  was  there  any  valuable  lace 
among  it — she  had  always  elected  to  dress  with 
comparative  simplicity,  and  seldom  paid  more  than 
thirty  or  forty  guineas  for  a  frock.  Having  sailed 
in  May,  and  expecting  to  be  absent  only  for  a 
month,  she  had  brought  scarcely  any  of  her  furs, 
overlooking  the  fact  that  she  was  bound  for  a  coun- 
try where  the  winter  often  began  in  September 
and  continued  into  June.  The  only  precious  thing 
among  her  belongings  here  was  her  rope  of  pearls, 
and  that  was  worth  so  great  a  sum  that  she  felt  she 
would  be  inconsistent  to  keep  it;  she  meant  to  give 
it  to  Dardy  Waldehast — she  had  it  in  her  hands  as 
she  watched  the  maid  kneeling  before  a  trunk.  The 
woman  was  going  back  to  New  York  at  the  end  of 
the  week,  and  the  thought  came  to  Betty,  as  she 
paused  there,  that  she  was  watching  a  maid  pack  for 
the  last  time.  The  task  looked  more  than  ever  odious. 
She  was  about  to  part  with  her  pearls  cheerfully,  but 
it  dismayed  her  to  reflect  that  henceforward  she 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  93 

would  have  to  submit  herself  to  the  turmoil  of  pack- 
ing. However,  she  would  not  dwell  on  the  point. 

"  I  want  you  to  have  this,  Dardy,"  she  said  pres- 
ently; "I  shan't  put  it  in." 

"  What  on  earth ?  "  said  the  other. 

"  I  don't  think  it  would  be  fair;  I  promised  empty 
pockets — it  wouldn't  be  playing  the  game  to  go  to 
him  with  a  property  round  my  neck." 

"  I  never  heard  anything  to  equal  you!  It's  too 
beautiful  to  last.  Anyhow,  I  can't  take  a  gift  like 
that  from  you.  If  you're  anxious  to  get  rid  of  it, 
you  had  better  send  it  back  to  your  father." 

"  What  do  you  propose  that  my  father  should  do 
with  it — wear  it  in  his  hair?  I  want  you  to  take  it, 
Dardy;  you  will  oblige  me." 

Mrs.  Waldehast  shrugged  her  shoulders:  "  I'll 
take  it,  but  I  shall  give  it  to  him  when  I  arrive. 
You're  a  regular  simpleton  to  let  it  go." 

But  Betty  did  not  feel  a  simpleton,  she  felt  very 
happy — and  very  brave.  The  prospect  of  the  pack- 
ing was  forgotten — it  was  the  eve  of  her  wedding 
day.  "  I'd  think  you  a  nobler  woman,"  he  had  said. 
And  she  was  being  nobler!  She  triumphed  in  the 
consciousness.  Oh,  she  would  always  live  up  to  his 
ideal — no  doubt  one  could  get  used  to  anything. 
Besides, — she  hated  to  hear  Dardy  suggest  it,  and 
she  never  harboured  the  thought,  but  she  couldn't 


94  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

help  its  encouraging  flight  across  her  reverie  in  mo- 
ments,— it  was  just  possible  that  later  on  he  might 
change  his  mind!  Not  that  she  would  ever  ask  him 
to  do  such  a  thing — she  was  thoroughly  sincere! 

She  felt  very  happy — and  very  brave.  There 
would  be  none  of  the  pageantry  that  she  had  always 
pictured  for  her  wedding  day — no  strings  of  car- 
riages, no  train-bearers  and  bridesmaids,  no  dazzle 
of  presents  at  a  reception,  no  motor  car  to  take  her 
away.  But  she  was  marrying  the  man  she  loved. 
And  after  she  had  kissed  her  friend  "  good-night," 
she  knelt,  and  pleaded,  "  Help  me  to  be  as  good  as 
I  mean  to  be!  And  if  I  do  find  it  a  little  rough 
sometimes,  O  God,  pray  don't  let  Dick  guess ! " 


VII 

"  LOVELIEST!  " 

"  Mmps?  " 

"What  shall  we  do  this  afternoon?" 

"  It's  time  you  did  some  real  work,  lazy-bones. 
Come  out  and  paint  the  Happy  Valley." 

"  I  can't  paint  out  of  doors  this  afternoon,  the 
changes  are  so  rapid  when  it's  sunny.  Let  me  do  an- 
other sketch  of  you — I  haven't  painted  your  dimple 
yet." 

"  It  makes  one  awful  conceited  to  marry  an  artist 
— there'll  be  enough  portraits  of  me  soon  to  fill  a 
gallery.  Where  shall  I  sit,  Master? " 

"Here,  Most  Unique!" 

Then  she  would  sit  in  his  chair,  and  stroke  his  hair 
the  wrong  way  again,  and  be  tender,  or  wayward, 
but  always  the  most  wonderful  thing  that  ever  wore 
hairpins  and  was  miscalled  "  mortal."  He  had  told 
her  on  the  third  day  that  there  were  twelve  of  her, 
and  that  he  never  knew  which  "  Betty  "  he  was  to 
see  next.  She  said  she  wouldn't  allow  him  to  be  nice 

95 


96  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

to  the  "  other  eleven,"  but  he  found  it  entrancing. 
He  was  the  playmate  of  a  child,  and  the  disciple  of 
a  woman;  he  was  teased  by  a  coquette,  and  captured 
her  to  clasp  a  wife. 

Aflame,  he  painted  her  in  a  white  dinner  gown, 
and  in  a  rose  peignoir;  he  painted  her  coiling  her 
hair  before  the  mirror.  He  painted  her  with  that  chin 
of  hers  scorning  him,  and  called  the  sketch,  "  Mr. 
Keith,  You  will  please  Take  Me  Back  to  the  Room." 
"Oh,  the  disdain  of  the  dearest!"  he  cried,  and 
showered  kisses  on  her,  rejoicing. 

Also  he  was  the  lady's  maid  of  a  girl  who  didn't 
know  how  to  fasten  her  frocks — and  who  found  it 
perplexing  that  her  hat,  and  her  gloves,  and  her 
sunshade  failed  to  come  to  her  of  their  own  accord. 

The  white  dinner  gown  had  been  especially  mad- 
dening. It  became  her  so  well,  and  she  had  wanted 
to  surprise  him  in  it  one  evening;  she  sent  him  away 
long  before  the  first  gong  was  beaten,  so  that  she 
might  have  plenty  of  time.  It  wasn't  until  she  had 
done  her  hair,  and  was  approving  it  in  the  glass, 
that  she  remembered  that  the  bodice  fastened  down 
the  back. 

She  rang  for  help  from  the  chambermaid,  but  the 
woman's  fingers  seemed  to  be  all  thumbs,  and  at 
last,  when  she  uttered  a  triumphant  "  There! "  after 
twenty  exhausting  minutes,  it  was  perceived  that  she 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  97 

had  strained  all  the  hooks  into  the  wrong  loops.  A 
tantrum  sent  her  flying  to  her  washhand-stands. 

And  the  second  gong  had  sounded  a  long  while  ago. 

It  dashed  the  bride's  pretty  intentions  to  the  ground 
that  Keith  knocked  at  the  door,  and  was  admitted,  look- 
ing very  nice  and  composed,  while  she  sat  deserted 
on  the  edge  of  the  ottoman,  hot  and  despairing. 

"  Oh,  Dick,"  she  exclaimed  tearfully,  "  I'm  such  a 
fraud!" 

"  What's  the  matter?  " 

"  I  can't  fasten  this  loathsome  dress  down  the 
back.  That  Annie's  a  born  fool!  Go  and  have  your 
dinner,  darling — don't  wait  for  me !  " 

"  My  poor  little  kiddymalinks!  Let  me  try  if  /  can 
button  it." 

She  laughed. 

"  I  might,"  he  urged;  "  I'd  be  better  than  Annie." 

"  I  was  laughing  at  the  '  button  ' — they  aren't  but- 
tons, savage,  they're  little  hooks  and  loops.  Well, 
go  on  then,  try — if  you  don't  want  anything  to  eat." 

It  was  a  superhuman  task.  The  hidden  hooks  be- 
gan on  the  right-hand  side,  and,  when  he  was  getting 
in  the  way  of  discovering  them  there,  dodged  on  to 
the  left.  The  evasive  loops  were  even  more  infuriat- 
ing; it  demanded  genius  to  decide,  without  fatal 
experiment,  which  was  the  loop  and  which  was  the 
pattern  of  the  lace.  Yet  his  perseverance  was  like- 


98  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

wise  superhuman.  And  wasn't  it  Olympian  to  be 
fastening  her  bodice?  Although  their  dinner  when 
they  got  it  had  lost  the  bloom  of  its  first  youth,  they 
were  joyous — and  deserved  their  champagne. 

They  had  no  fault  to  find  with  their  Eden.  In 
their  indolent  moods  they  sauntered,  or  sat,  under 
the  great  trees  of  the  grounds.  If  the  thought  of 
shops  tempted,  they  strolled  across  the  common  to 
the  Pantiles,  where  the  airs  from  a  modern  band- 
stand did  not  drown  the  rustle  of  a  stately  past.  They 
bought  the  print  of  bygone  belles  and  gallants,  or 
book-markers  and  brushes  of  the  native  ware.  One 
evening  they  witnessed  "  Dick  Turpin's  Ride  to 
York  "  in  a  tent,  and  when  Tom  King,  the  Gentle- 
man Highwayman,  cried,  "  We  are  pursood!  'Ark,  I 
'ear  the  sound  of  'orses'  'ooves! "  Betty  was  in  rap- 
tures with  the  performance. 

Oftenest  they  turned  to  the  right,  past  the  little  post 
office  next  door  to  the  hotel,  where  they  sent  their 
telegram  to  Mrs.  Waldehast  before  she  sailed.  Then 
they  wandered  into  Rusthall.  Village  children  who  had 
never  smelt  the  sea  ran  perilously  on  the  rocks  that  it 
had  left  behind,  but  after  the  sand-castles  and  the 
children,  all  was  grass  and  silence,  excepting  for  the 
birds. 

Betty  liked  Rusthall  better  than  "The  Wells." 
She  liked  the  sight  of  the  little  ivy-clad  church  on 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  99 

the  edge  of  the  Happy  Valley;  and  there  was  the 
nook  that  she  had  found,  perched  above  the  sweep 
of  woodland.  She  said  that  they  "  must  often  come 
back  there  when  they  grew  up." 

"  It's  just  the  kind  of  church  I  meant!"  she  ex- 
plained once. 

"  But  we  couldn't  be  more  content! "  said  Keith. 
It  was  the  day  that  he  had  painted  her  contemptuous, 
and  the  marvel  of  their  marriage  was  full  upon  him. 
The  nook  was  newly  magical  this  afternoon.  "  To 
think  how  nearly  I  lost  you!  To  think  that  I  might 
have  been  in  the  studio  now " 

"  Being  industrious! " 

"  Eating  my  heart  out!  I  wonder  if  you'd  have 
been  remembering  me?  I  wonder  what  you'd  have 
been  doing  now  if  we  hadn't  married?  " 

"  What  time  is  it  in  New  York?  " 

He  looked  at  his  watch:  "  It's  still  morning — 
about  twelve." 

"  Isn't  that  funny !  Perhaps  I'd  have  been  in  bed 
and  asleep,  if  I  had  been  out  late  last  night." 

"  Then  you  wouldn't  have  been  thinking  of  me  at 
all.  While  /  was " 

"  Stamping  up  and  down  the  studio  and  calling 
for  Miss  Lynch!  Well,  I  might  have  been  dreaming 
about  you,  you  know.  Or  perhaps  I'd  have  given 
a  thought  to  you  when  they  brought  in  my  coffee." 


ioo  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

"  Had  you  a  wonderful  room,  Betty?  " 

She  nodded. 

"  Tell  me  what  it  was  like." 

"  What  do  you  want  to  know  for?  " 

"  How  I  wish  7  could  give  you  a  room  like  it! " 

"  Goose!  Do  you  think  I  care?" 

"  Don't  you?  " 

"Do  I?"  she  whispered. 

Their  eyes  dwelt  together,  and  he  grasped  her  hand. 

Rain  clouds  had  sombred  the  sky,  and  the  land- 
scape was  purpling.  Far  afield  little  curls  of  smoke 
wreathed  bluely  in  the  haze — the  smoke  of  homes. 

"  I'm'  afraid  there's  a  storm  brewing!  " 

But  the  power  of  the  church  survived.  She  loi- 
tered before  the  gate,  as  she  always  did. 

"  We'll  come  here  on  Sunday  morning  if  you 
like?  "  he  said. 

"  I'd  like  to  peep  in  now,"  she  told  him,  and  he 
followed  her  inside. 

It  was  very  quiet  and  dim  there.  They  waited  for 
a  moment  by  the  door,  looking  towards  the  east 
window. 

"  It's  just  the  kind  of  church  I  meant,"  she  re- 
peated under  her  breath. 

He  answered  with  a  touch  upon  her  arm,  and  they 
crept  across  the  tiled  floor  together,  and  paused  at 
the  foot  of  the  chancel  steps. 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  101 

She  murmured,  "  It's  just  here  we  should  have 
stood." 

The  man's  touch  slid  from  her  arm  to  her  hand, 
and  the  hand  welcomed  it.  Then,  as  they  moved 
away,  she  dropped  behind  him.  When  he  looked 
round  she  was  but  half-way  down  the  aisle,  musing 
again. 

Her  fingers  greeted  his  return,  but  her  gaze  still 
brooded  on  the  window.  Presently  she  faltered, 
"Dickie,  I  want  to  'fess!  I  wasn't  surprised  that 
day." 

"When?" 

"  On  the  boat.  I  told  her  to  tell  you  I  was  going, 
Dickie;  I  meant  to  make  you  give  in!  ...  I  feel  so 
small!" 


VIII 

THE  accommodation  at  the  studio  was  much  too 
primitive  for  them  to  live  there  even  for  a  few  weeks, 
so  on  their  return  to  town  they  stayed  at  another 
hotel,  and  were  provided  with  a  freeh  list  of  disap- 
pointments by  a  house  agent  every  day.  It  was  not 
such  a  spacious  hotel  as  the  one  that  they  had  left, 
nor  was  it  quite  so  opulent.  The  other  women's 
appraising  gaze  at  Betty  was  not  always  due  to  the 
fact  that  the  newspapers  had  made  her  marriage 
famous;  every  woman  there  did  not  recognise  her 
name,  but  every  startled  pair  of  feminine  eyes  recog- 
nised the  hang  of  her  skirt.  Despite  the  hooks  and 
loops,  Keith  had  privately  resolved  that  if  he  could 
help  it  she  should  never  dress  more  cheaply — the  man 
no  longer  exists  who  sees  a  girl  perfectly  gowned  and, 
"  duped  by  the  subtle  simplicity,"  thinks  that  her 
clothes  cost  ten  pounds  a  year.  His  ghost  still 
haunts  fiction,  but  the  man  is  in  his  proper  place. 

After  various  expeditions  to  Chelsea,  where  every- 
thing was  either  too  dear  or  too  nasty,  they  decided 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  103 

upon  a  semi-detached  house  in  St.  John's  Wood.  The 
street,  unspoilt  by  the  railway,  was  called  Sibella 
Road,  and  the  house  was  called  something  grandilo- 
quent. However,  there  was  the  simple  remedy  of  re- 
ducing it  to  a  number.  A  small  cheque  improved  the 
landlord's  taste  in  wall-papers,  and  it  remained  for 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Keith  to  furnish  the  villa  more  com- 
pletely than  with  a  gramophone  and  a  Nankin  jar. 

"  Nothing  happens  but  the  unforeseen  " — a  prov- 
erb that  has  more  truth  than  most  of  its  companions. 
When  Keith  had  vaguely  imagined  himself  enlist- 
ing among  the  Benedicts,  he  had  had  visions  of 
wanderings  and  hunts,  of  delightful  "  finds "  and 
precious  "bits";  to  go  to  a  firm  and  order  en  bloc 
had  seemed  to  him  a  frenzy  of  Philistinism;  yet  this 
was  just  what  he  and  Betty  did,  for  they  were  eager 
to  be  settled  as  soon  as  possible. 

There  was  an  establishment  in  the  West  End 
which  undertook  to  equip  anything  from  a  cottage 
to  a  mansion,  and  to  show  in  advance  precisely  what 
effect  the  customer  would  obtain  for  his  money.  The 
report  ran  that  it  was  merely  necessary  to  state  the 
sum  that  one  meant  to  spend,  and,  with  the  celerity 
of  Aladdin's  Lamp,  Commercial  Enterprise  dis- 
played one's  future  dwelling.  Keith  meant  to  spend 
much  more  than  he  could  afford — he  had  felt  that 
to  be  reasonable  in  the  preparation  of  Betty's  home 


io4  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

would  be  an  act  of  barbarity.  The  painter's  profes- 
sion makes  erratic  accountants;  the  artist  who,  by  a 
lucky  chance,  sells  a  month's  work  for  a  hundred 
guineas  is  liable  to  say,  "  That  means  nearly  thirteen 
hundred  a  year,"  and  to  live  up  to  it  till  the  writs 
come  in.  Three  hundred  pounds  Keith  meant  to 
spend,  and  Betty — to  whom  it  was  something  in  the 
nature  of  a  revelation  that  this  didn't  imply  an  ab- 
sence of  carpets — protested  valiantly  that  it  was  "  too 
much."  They  took  a  hansom  to  the  establishment. 

The  amount  sounded  less  important  to  him  when 
he  mentioned  it  amid  the  splendours  of  the  show- 
room, but  the  gentleman  who  received  them  heard 
it  with  respectful  interest,  and  accompanied  them 
part  of  their  way.  Their  future  residence,  they  learnt, 
was  upstairs;  a  lift  would  bear  them  to  its  door. 

The  door  stood  hospitably  ajar;  there  was  no  need 
for  them  to  try  whether  the  antique  bell-pull  would 
pull  a  bell.  They  entered,  smiling,  and  stole  through 
the  tiny  hall.  Beyond  the  mimic  casements  they 
had  glimpses  of  a  canvas  garden.  No  maid  was  man- 
ifest, but  their  abode  stood  ready  for  their  coming. 
Flowers  gave  them  welcome  from  a  table;  books 
invited  from  a  Sheraton  recess  beside  the  hearth. 

They  discovered  the  Best  Bedroom.  He  saw  her 
open  with  her  own  hands  the  wardrobe  where  she 
was  to  hang  her  sacred  things.  On  the  dummy  win- 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  105 

dow  the  morning  sun  shone  bright,  and  he  pictured 
it  shining  on  her  face  between  those  draperies  when 
she  woke.  Growing  bolder  in  domesticity,  they  chose 
their  pet  corners  in  the  drawing-room.  "  Could  you 
be  satisfied  here,  darling?"  he  whispered;  and  she 
nodded  surely.  "  You  shall  have  that  chair,  Dickie, 
and  this  one  shall  be  mine."  She  sat.  "  It's  good  to 
be  at  home,  my  husband!  "  she  laughed.  And  in  the 
cardboard  house  he  bent  and  kissed  her. 

They  viewed  the  room  where  they  would  sup, 
where  champagne  should  celebrate  the  triumph  of  a 
picture,  and  where  the  queen,  in  the  rose  peignoir, 
should  be  pampered  when  tired.  And  then,  just  as 
they  were  remembering  that  there  were  preliminaries 
to  be  performed,  there  appeared  on  the  enchanted 
scene  a  young  and  winning  hostess. 

Under  the  lady's  graceful  guidance  they  inspected 
more  practically.  She  hinted  that  the  "  leaded 
panes  "  which  gave  on  to  the  painted  garden  would 
be  "  extras  "  if  imitated  in  Sibella  Road.  There  were 
one  or  two  such  trifling  disillusions.  For  instance, 
Keith  had  taken  a  fancy  to  the  antique  brass  fire- 
irons  and  electric  fittings  in  the  room,  and  those 
were  not  included  in  the  three  hundred  pounds 
either.  But  the  charming  hostess  reminded  him  that 
there  were  probably  some  other  articles  here  that 
he  would  not  need  at  all,  and  if  that  were  so,  the  an- 


io6  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

tique  brass  could  be  had  instead.  She  seemed  to  take 
as  kind  an  interest  in  the  happy  pair  as  if  she  had 
made  up  the  match,  and  Betty  said  afterwards  that, 
dainty  as  the  House  on  the  Landing  was,  its  young 
hostess  was  the  most  delightful  thing  that  it  contained. 

It  was  much  simpler  to  furnish  than  to  find  two 
servants.  The  capital  cook  and  accomplished  house- 
parlour-maid  who  advertised  for  employment  at 
such  moderate  wages  had  always  taken  a  situation 
on  the  day  that  Betty  wrote  to  the  address  that  was 
given.  And  the  address  always  proved  to  be  a  reg- 
istry office,  where  a  booking  fee  failed  to  disclose 
any  domestic  comparable  with  the  treasures  that 
had  simultaneously  vanished.  But  even  two  servants 
were  obtained  at  last,  and  the  evening  came  when 
the  love  scene  in  the  cardboard  house  was  re-enacted 
in  Sibella  Road.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Keith  were  at  home. 

It  was  beautiful,  next  morning,  to  send  him  up- 
stairs to  the  studio  after  breakfast  and  kiss  him  for 
luck.  He  had  told  her  that  he  expected  her  to  come 
in  there  as  often  as  she  liked,  but  she  was  much  too 
clever  to  have  the  illusion  that  frequent  visits  would 
make  for  progress,  and  she  intended  that  his  work- 
hours  should  be  respected.  After  she  had  sat  by  the 
window,  glancing  at  the  newspaper — which  was  so 
stingy  with  its  news  of  America — it  occurred  to  her  to 
put  a  few  touches  to  the  little  drawing-room.  Its  as- 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  107 

pect  would  be  improved  by  some  more  cushions  and 
flowers,  and  the  piano  needed  draping.  To  buy  some 
of  the  things  before  Keith  came  down  would  pass  the 
time!  She  wondered  if  there  were  any  good  shops 
close  by,  and  rang  on  impulse  for  her  hat  and  shoes. 

It  disconcerted  her  that  the  ring  evoked  a  frowsy 
and  forbidding  cook,  who  said  shortly,  "  Good-morn- 
in',  ma'am.  Shall  I  take  the  horders?  " 

Betty  caught  her  breath.  To  her  the  comic  ele- 
ment of  the  surprise  was  lacking.  The  moment  was 
no  less  grave  to  the  girl  than  to  the  man  confront- 
ing his  work  overhead.  She  knew  that  it  was  a  crisis; 
that,  underlying  the  petty  shock,  was  the  test  of 
her  fitness  to  be  his  wife — and  her  hopeless  inex- 
perience frightened  her.  But  it  was  Lynch's  daugh- 
ter who,  on  the  brink  of  disaster,  answered,  "  Yes, 
please,  cook,  I  have  got  to  see  you  now."  And  it  was 
said  very  well;  so  far  the  cook  hadn't  found  her  out. 

"  What  about  lunch  and  dinner  'm?  " 

Excepting  in  a  restaurant  she  had  never  ordered 
a  meal  in  her  life. 

"We  don't  want  anything  elaborate,"  she  said; 
"  we  live  very  simply." 

"  Yes  'm." 

"  We  shall  want  some  hors-d'oeuvres,  and  a  little 
consomme,  and — and  some  supreme  de  sole " 

"  Some  what  of  sole?  "  asked  the  woman,  bridling. 


io8  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

"  What  might  it  all  be  in  Henglish  'm?  I  was  given 

to  understand  as  it  was  plain  cooking  you  required." 

"  Yes,"  murmured  Betty.  "  Give  us  a  little  caviare, 
or  a  few  anchovies,  and  some  soup.  And  we  shall 
want  some  fish,  and  so  on." 

"  How  much?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  wish  for  any  waste — say,  one  portion 
between  two,"  said  Betty  laudably,  and  realised  that 
she  had  blundered  by  the  stare. 

Here  was  meanness!  And  with  a  dress  like  that  on 
her  back!  "One  portion  between  the  two?"  stam- 
mered the  cook,  agape. 

"  Well,  you  get  what  you  think  right."  It  was 
distressingly  new  to  her  to  be  timid  of  a  servant. 

"  You'll  leave  the  quantities  to  me,  ma'am? " 
She  smirked.  Not  meanness  after  all — only  idiocy! 
She  viewed  her  harvest.  "And  will  you  want  a 
joint?  " 

"  No.  We  might  have  a  few  sweetbreads,  and  a 
little  poultry,  and — well,  yes,  I  suppose  Mr.  Keith 
would  like  some  meat.  Lamb!" 

The  harvest  demanded  labour;  the  smirk  sub- 
sided. "  And — er — vegetables?  " 

"Why,  yes,"  said  Betty,  "of  course!" 

"  I  meant,  what  are  they  to  be  'm?  " 

She  sighed.  "  Well,  green  peas  and  beans,"  she 
said. 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  109 

"Both  of  'em?" 

"  Well,  one  or  the  other." 

"  No  potatoes  'm  ?  " 

"  Oh,  of  course  I  want  potatoes,"  gasped  Betty ; 
"  do  you  think  I  dine  without  potatoes  ?  " 

The  woman  sniffed.  "  What  about  sweets  ?  "  she 
asked,  with  umbrage. 

"  You  can  make  us  a  macedoine." 

"A  what?"  The  tone  was  grim. 

"What  do  you  suggest?"  inquired  the  mistress 
feebly. 

"  Would  you  like  a  nice  rice  pudden,  or  a  happle 
pie?" 

"  I  think  we  will  have  meringues." 

"  Meringues  ?  Of  course,  then,  you'll  horder  'em 
when  you  go  hout?  Hi  couldn't  hundertake  'em." 

"  You  will  send  your  fellow-servant.  And  you  will 
send  up  some  strawberries  and  pears,  please." 

"  There's  no  pears  '  in.' ' 

"I  don't  require  them  till  the  evening;  there  is 
plenty  of  time  for  them  to  be  in  before  dinner." 

"  They  ain't  '  in,' "  explained  the  woman  curtly, 
"  ain't  in  season." 

Were  there  seasons  to  be  considered?  Were  there 
such  servants  to  be  endured?  Nothing  comic  for  the 
girl,  indeed!  It  was  painful,  piteous  —  worse,  im- 
measurably worse,  than  the  studio  on  one  of  the  days 


no  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

when  the  hand  was  but  a  brush-holder  and  refused 

to  "  speak." 

And  there  was  luncheon  to  be  arranged;  and  the 
knowledge  that,  with  the  morrow,  the  duty  would 
recur.  She  had  no  wish  to  go  and  buy  flowers  when 
the  door  closed  behind  a  complaint  about  the  kitchen 
range. 

She  sat  back,  and  looked  at  the  room  with  other 
eyes.  Beyond  it  she  saw  the  palace  in  Fifth  Avenue, 
and  the  mansion  that  was  called  a  "  cottage "  in 
Newport.  For  the  first  time  she  paid  a  tribute  to 
the  silence  of  their  domestic  machinery.  Now  that 
she  came  to  think  about  it,  it  was  surprising  how 
everything  had  arranged  itself! 

In  the  early  afternoon,  a  headlong  rush  of  rattling 
traffic,  followed  by  the  clatter  and  crash  of  cans, 
shook  her  from  her  chair,  dismayed.  She  found 
that  small  quantities  of  milk,  from  various  dairies, 
were  being  taken  to  some  of  the  doors.  The  violence 
raged  from  two  o'clock  till  three,  and  she  wondered 
at  the  strange  land  where  a  pennyworth  of  milk  was 
delivered  with  the  frenzy  of  a  revolution. 

Later,  she  and  Keith  went  for  a  walk.  St.  John's 
Wood  did  not  prove  to  be  a  very  exhilarating  quarter, 
and  the  sad  Wellington  Road  offered  few  attractions 
as  a  promenade.  She  felt  no  enthusiasm  when  he 
mentioned  that  they  might  drop  in  to  Lord's  and 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  in 

watch  the  cricket  sometimes.  Though  he,  had  trembled 
lest  the  rooms  were  not  large  enough  for  her,  or  the 
furniture  was  not  good  enough,  his  misgivings  hadn't 
comprised  the  thought  that  she  might  be  dejected 
by  the  housekeeping,  and  he  attributed  her  depression 
to  the  hours  that  she  had  passed  alone.  He  suggested 
that  she  should  subscribe  to  Mudie's  on  the  morrow, 
and  reminded  her  that  he  knew  one  or  two  men  in  the 
neighbourhood  whose  wives  would  be  glad  of  her 
friendship. 

On  their  return,  she  changed  her  frock,  and  Keith, 
who  had  not  guessed  that  she  was  going  to  do  so, 
looked  rather  slovenly  beside  her  smartness  when  he 
hooked  it.  But  it  was  too  late  to  repair  his  omission 
now. 

The  evening  meal  was  indifferently  cooked,  and  it 
was  abominably  served.  The  maid,  who  had  been 
merely  awkward  during  the  brief  luncheon,  lost  her 
wits  among  the  unaccustomed  courses  of  dinner.  The 
wife  had  entered  wistful  for  a  few  words  of  praise, 
but  soon  she  yearned  only  for  the  ordeal  to  con- 
clude. 

The  salt  had  not  been  smoothed.  Bread,  in  the 
monstrosity  of  a  "  cottage  loaf,"  had  been  set  at  a 
corner  of  the  table,  and,  in  the  process  of  cutting  it, 
there  were  shot  across  the  cloth  enough  crumbs  for  a 
chicken-run.  A  spot  from  the  luncheon's  gravy  pro- 


ii2  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

claimed  that  the  cloth  had  done  previous  service;  her 

serviette  was  tumbled. 

"  I  thought  they  would  know  enough  to  put  on 
others,"  she  exclaimed  penitently. 

"These  are  quite  clean,  aren't  they?"  he  said, 
surprised. 

She  kept  her  eyes  down :  "  Well,  yes,"  she  faltered, 
"  I  suppose  they'll  do."  She  wouldn't  let  him  see  it, 
but  it  startled  her  to  learn  that  he  didn't  expect  fresh 
napery  at  every  meal. 

There  were  intervals  that  threatened  to  be  endless, 
followed  by  cascades  of  cutlery,  as  the  flustered  servant, 
in  her  creaking  boots,  bustled  back  with  the  knives 
and  forks  that  had  been  forgotten.  She  popped  the 
vegetable  dishes  in  front  of  Betty,  and  when  she  was 
instructed  to  hand  them,  breathed  heavily  on  the 
wrong  side. 

"  It's  an  awful  change  for  you,  dear,"  said 
Keith,  during  one  of  the  excited  colloquies  in  the 
kitchen. 

She  struggled  for  a  smile:  "Oh,  it's  nothing!" 

But  the  tension  was  greater  for  her  than  he  divined, 
sorry  and  shamefaced  as  he  was.  She  could  have 
dined  happily  on  bread-and-butter  in  a  clean  field; 
this  vulgar  racket  set  her  nerves  quivering. 

"  I  expect  it's  my  own  fault;  I've  given  them  too 
much  to  do,"  she  murmured,  with  dry  lips.  "  Perhaps 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  113 

it  would  be  better  if  we  had  just  one  or  two  things 
in  future?" 

"  Well,  I  don't  think  we  need  be  quite  so  extensive, 
certainly,"  he  agreed.  He  had  been  thinking  that  they 
could  not  afford  it,  and  unconsciously  the  thought  was 
in  his  voice. 

Misery  gripped  her  throat.  She  stared  dumbly 
through  the  open  window  into  the  back  yard.  The 
toilette  that  she  had  made  weighed  on  her — she 
felt  ridiculous  to  be  well  dressed.  Her  husband 
had  sat  down  in  a  tweed  jacket,  the  table  linen 
was  soiled,  the  servants  were  unspeakable,  it  was  all 
revolting — and  he  hinted  to  her  that  it  was  extrava- 
gance ! 

Years  of  her  life  she  would  have  given  at  that  in- 
stant to  be  alone,  to  be  free  to  scream  unheard.  Down 
her  arms,  to  her  very  finger-tips,  hysteria  was  clam- 
ouring in  her. 

The  relief  was  physical  when  she  rose  at  last,  but 
though  she  hurried  to  her  room,  she  dared  not  scream. 
She  clenched  her  hands  and  beat  them  hard  against 
the  wall  instead. 

She  could  not  stay  away  long. 

Dusk  was  gathering  when  she  descended.  In  the 
half-light  the  little  drawing-room  had  a  melancholy 
air.  Farther  down  Sibella  Road  an  ancient  toper,  with 
a  harp,  was  quavering — 


ii4  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

"  My  mother  is  with  the  Hangels  now, 
She  is  waiting  for  me  there  !  " 

The  feet  of  the  servant  pounded  along  the  passage. 
The  clatter  from  the  kitchen  continued  to  be  madden- 
ing. A  lugubrious  church-clock  droned  a  quarter  past 
eight.  She  recognised  that  there  were  nearly  two 
hours  to  be  borne  before  she  could  credibly  assert 
that  she  was  tired. 


IX 

SHE  went  to  bed  faint  with  the  fear  of  the  morrow. 
Like  a  shy  child  away  from  home  and  yearning  to  be 
"  fetched  " — like  a  prisoner  the  first  time  that  a  sen- 
tence of  years  knells  on  his  consciousness — she  shrank 
from  the  terrors  of  the  life  before  her.  Of  course,  the 
servants  were  exceptionally  bad  for  the  wages  that  they 
were  receiving;  of  course  it  is  not  usual  for  even  a 
second-class  servant  to  put  a  loaf  on  a  dinner-table; 
and  of  course  that  first  full  day  was  the  most  poignant 
of  all.  But  if  her  husband  had  not  been  dearer  to  her 
than  the  man  with  whom  she  fell  in  love,  she  would 
have  broken  down  before  a  week.  Not  for  a  single 
week  could  she  have  stood  the  strain.  Whatever  the 
consequences,  she  must  have  owned  herself  incapable. 
Besides,  if  he  really  understood  how  wretched  she 
was,  she  could  not  doubt  that  he  would  yield  and 
consent  to  her  father's  providing  for  them.  It  was 
not  the  dread  of  a  refusal  that  tied  her  tongue,  nor  was 
it  the  shame  of  confessing  herself  a  failure — it  was  her 
reluctance  to  pain  him,  to  stab  him  by  admitting  that 

"5 


n6  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

all  his  efforts  for  her  happiness  were  so  futile  that  she 
could  not  support  the  change  even  for  a  week.  She 
felt  that  it  would  be  a  cruel  thing  to  do. 

"  If  he  really  understood ! "  Sometimes  she  won- 
dered if  she  could  have  made  him  understand,  if  she 
could  have  made  anybody  understand  whom  usage  had 
dulled  to  the  life's  unrest.  He  and  others  would  say, 
"  Oh,  naturally  you  don't  like  being  poor ;  you  miss 
your  big  house,  and  your  carriage,  and  your  French 
cook ! "  But  it  wasn't  that  the  villa  was  little,  though 
the  walls'  nearness  to  one  another  pent  her  in  moments ; 
it  wasn't  that  she  walked  to  St.  John's  Wood  Road 
Station,  instead  of  having  carriages  and  motor  cars 
at  her  command;  it  wasn't  that  her  food  was  cooked 
by  an  incompetent  slattern,  instead  of  by  a  famous 
chef.  It  was  the  vulgarity  pertaining  to  small  means 
that  crushed  her.  "  What  about  the  kitchen  coal  'm  ?  " 
"  The  butcher  hasn't  called  for  orders  'm !  "  "  We're 
out  of  hale  'm,  and  the  shops  are  shut ! "  There 
were  women  in  all  the  villas  of  the  street;  she  saw 
some  of  them  pass  the  window.  They  looked  com- 
placent, and  she  envied  them.  Did  they  realise  the 
ceaseless  preparation  behind  their  curtains?  Did  they 
know  that  a  house  where  one  was  for  ever  arranging 
never  became  a  home? 

Within,  there  was  not,  during  the  day,  one  hour 
when  she  could  claim  peace  and  feel  safe  against 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  117 

intrusion.  There  was  not,  during  the  day,  one  meal 
when  the  sight  of  the  table  didn't  jar  upon  her,  though 
she  could  have  eaten  the  cold  beef  with  contentment. 
The  service,  and  the  bathroom — she  had  not  dreamed 
till  now  that  it  could  be  nauseous  to  bathe!  The 
continuous  preparation  for  what  was  sickening  when 
it  came!  And  the  doors  that  banged,  banged,  banged, 
until  every  pulse  in  her  was  expectant  of  the  next 
slam! 

Several  pressing  invitations  had  reached  them  from 
Clapham  Park,  and  once  they  had  paid  a  duty  visit, 
but  they  had  always  excused  themselves  from  dining 
there.  Lady  Keith  had,  moreover,  called  at  the  villa, 
and  attempted  gingerly  to  condole  with  Betty  on 
"  dear  Richard's  eccentricities."  The  girl  read  her  like 
a  tale  in  words  of  one  syllable,  and  the  lady  could 
only  gather,  to  her  consternation,  that  his  wife  cor- 
dially endorsed  his  views. 

Returning  good  for  evil,  she  introduced  the  subject 
of  housekeeping,  and  was  dismayed  to  learn  that 
nothing  here  was  locked  beyond  the  servants'  maw. 
What  an  establishment  from  A  to  Z! 

"  Oh,  my  dear,  but  you  ought  to  have  everything 
under  lock  and  key !  "  she  sighed.  "  My  cook  comes 
to  me  at  half-past  nine  every  morning  with  a  trayful 
of  cups,  and  I  measure  out  just  what  is  needed  for 
the  next  twenty-four  hours — so  much  tea,  and  so 


n8  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

much  sugar,  and  so  much  rice,  and  so  forth."  She 
had  picked  up  "  so  forth "  from  the  knight.  "  I 
think  it  is  our  duty  to  keep  temptation  out  of  our 
servants'  way,  and  discourage  waste.  I  look  forward 
to  my  tray !  " 

"  I'd  rather  be  dead,"  said  Betty  carelessly. 

It  was  a  shocking  sentiment — but  the  speaker  might 
have  revelled  in  millions!  There  was  nothing  to  be 
gained  from  her;  even  if  Richard  had  apostatized, 
their  wealth  would  have  yielded  not  a  sovereign  to 
the  coffers  of  Clapham  Park;  yet  the  mere  thought 
of  the  millions  exalted  her  to  a  pinnacle,  and  "  Aunt 
Emily  "  had  only  simpered  her  dissent. 

The  girl  had  not  written  to  her  father  or  brother 
since  her  marriage;  her  father's  cablegram  rankled 
in  her  memory,  and  Howard  had  not  shown  enough 
interest  in  the  matter  to  wish  her  happiness.  To 
Mrs.  Waldehast,  however,  she  had  written  gaily 
hitherto;  now  she  found  it  difficult  to  write,  though 
as  a  rule  even  formal  correspondence  was  no  effort 
to  her.  There  had  been  occasion  for  Keith  to  com- 
municate with  the  landlord,  and  Betty,  the  butterfly, 
had  suggested  phrases  that  sounded  as  business-like 
as  if  they  had  come  out  of  East  India  Avenue.  Her 
letter  from  Sibella  Road  to  her  friend  was  accom- 
plished only  after  she  had  wasted  a  good  deal  of  the 
new  stationery.  Her  first  attempts  had  been  very 


THE   HOUSE    OF   LYNCH  119 

much  out  of  tune,  and  "  I  am  perfectly  happy,"  added 
as  an  improvement,  seemed  only  to  call  attention  to 
the  flatness  of  what  came  before.  She  was  thankful 
when  she  finished  at  last;  the  thought  of  the  mail 
would  be  no  pleasure  to  her  in  future,  nor  was  she 
sorry  that  the  Waldehasts'  intended  trip  to  Europe 
had  been  postponed. 

Though  she  was  at  pains  to  affect  good  spirits 
when  Keith  was  present,  he  was  distressfully  con- 
scious of  a  change  in  her;  and  the  women  whose 
complacence  she  envied,  envied  the  woman  whose 
housemaid  "  was  always  whistling  on  the  doorstep 
in  the  evening  for  hansoms."  He  examined  the 
rooms,  trying  to  conjecture  what  deficiency  must 
mean  the  greatest  hardship  to  her.  Her  toilet- 
service  looked  very  meagre,  and  he  determined  to 
surprise  her  with  a  better  one.  He  was  surprised 
himself  to  learn  the  prices,  but  paid  ten  pounds  for 
little  silver  pots  and  bottles,  delighted  with  his  in- 
spiration. 

"  You  won't  feel  such  a  pauper  when  you  go  to 
your  dressing-table  now!"  he  crowed  as  she  un- 
packed the  parcel.  The  toilet-service  that  she  had  left 
on  her  table  in  New  York  had  been  acquired  in  the 
Rue  Drouot  for  seventy-five  thousand  francs,  and 
had  once  belonged  to  the  Empress  Josephine. 

"  You    angel !    Aren't    they    sweet  ?    I    am    proud 


120  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

of  them ! "  she  exclaimed.  But  she  felt  poorer  than 
before,  because  the  tenderness  of  his  error  made  the 
gift  pathetic  to  her. 

How  could  she  say  to  this  man,  "  I  am  miserable  "  ? 
When  he  questioned  her,  she  vowed  that  there  was 
nothing  the  matter. 

For  a  long  while  he  had  had  elusive  visions  of  a 
picture  which  had  named  itself  in  his  mind,  "  The 
Harbour  of  Souls."  He  saw  the  misty  forms  of 
frail  craft  floating  out  of  shadow  into  the  whiteness 
of  dawn.  Some  of  the  craft  had  been  storm-tossed 
on  the  way.  Age  and  youth  were  among  the  vague 
figures;  a  girl  had  sunk  under  torn  sails,  but 
her  gaze  was  calm  now.  Over  all  was  silence. 
The  light,  the  still  water,  the  faces,  all  meant 
peace. 

The  mental  expression  attracted  him  powerfully, 
but  the  whole  scheme  remained  indefinite  because 
his  recent  expenses  had  reduced  his  capital  so  much 
that  he  feared  to  begin  the  sketches  for  the  picture. 
He  knew  very  well  that,  if  he  did  so,  he  would  crave 
to  work  on  it  exclusively,  and  he  could  not  afford  the 
indulgence.  Instead,  he  worked  on  a  canvas  that  he 
had  blocked  in  roughly  in  America,  and  sold  two 
smaller  studies  that  he  had  brought  back  to  Vivard, 
the  dealer,  a  cad  in  the  clothes  of  a  gentleman.  It 
had  once  happened  that  an  unfamiliar  artist,  intruding 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  121 

into  the  sanctity  of  Vivard's,  had  been  mistaken  for 
a  customer  till  he  explained  his  wants — and  the 
artist  had  never  forgotten  his  experience  of  Vivard's 
two  manners. 

Betty  had  dimly  supposed  that  painters  sent  nearly 
all  their  pictures  in  cabs  to  the  Academy,  or  that 
Vivard,  or  Kluht,  or  one  of  those  people,  came  to  the 
studios  and  made  respectful  offers;  to  see  Keith 
prepare  to  go  forth  with  two  canvases  for  sale  under 
his  arm  had  been  not  a  little  startling.  But  here, 
the  American  spirit  in  her  made  her  dauntless;  she 
was  no  snob.  While  the  managing  clerk's  wife  across 
the  way  sneered  at  "  such  a  common  business," 
the  multi-millionaire's  daughter  went  to  the  gate  with 
her  husband  and  wished  him  luck. 

One  afternoon,  when  they  had  been  in  Sibella 
Road  between  two  and  three  weeks,  the  servant 
came  to  the  studio  to  tell  Keith  that  her  mistress 
was  not  at  home,  and  that  a  gentleman  was  asking 
for  them. 

"  What  name  did  he  give?  " 

"  He  told  me  to  say  it  was  Mrs.  Keith's  father, 
sir." 

Keith  started;  no  visitor  could  have  been  less 
welcome.  "  Oh !  "  he  said.  "  All  right.  Is  he  in  the 
drawing-room?  " 

"No,  sir;  I  left  'im  in  the  'all." 


122  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

"  Well,  show  him  into  the  drawing-room,  and  say 
I'll  be  with  him  in  a  few  minutes." 

Lynch  settled  himself  on  the  six-pound  settee 
leisurely,  drawing  deductions.  On  the  whole,  his 
girl's  room  was  not  so  bad  as  he  had  dreaded, — the 
aspect  of  the  street  had  foretokened  something  meaner, 
— but  it  was  piteous  and  impossible.  He  rejoiced 
that  he  had  come — she  might  have  been  too  proud 
to  own  her  mistake  for  months.  As  to  this  husband 
of  hers,  he  was  doubtless  kicking  himself  for  his 
heroics  by  now,  even  assuming  that  they  were  more 
than  a  manoeuvre  at  the  start.  In  Betty's  interests, 
though,  one  must  affect  to  be  fooled  by  him.  It  would 
have  been  refreshing  to  hear  that  he  had  met  with 
an  accident  and  been  killed. 

Keith  came  in.  "  Mr.  Lynch?  I  am  sorry  my  wife 
is  out."  He  did  not  offer  his  hand. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Keith!  I  am  glad  to  meet  you.  I  have 
neglected  some  business  to  do  so." 

"  Won't  you  sit  down  ?  " 

"  Thank  you.  Is  Betty  well?  " 

"  Yes,  thanks.  I  expect  she'll  be  back  before  very 
long." 

They  regarded  each  other  curiously — the  swindler 
trying  to  see  into  the  mind  of  his  son-in-law;  his 
son-in-law  loathing  the  necessity  for  receiving  the 
swindler  with  politeness. 


THE    HOUSE    OF   LYNCH  123 

"Mr.  Keith,  you  and  I  have  got  to  have  quite 
a  chat;  I  guess  we  have  got  to  arrive  at  a  friendly 
understanding." 

"  Do  you  think  it's  essential  for  us  to  introduce  any 
painful  subject  ?  "  asked  Keith  nervously. 

"  I  shall  make  a  blunt  answer  to  that :  if  Betty 
was  not  married  to  you,  it  would  not  concern  me 
to  correct  your  prejudices.  But  my  daughter  cannot 
continue  to  be  dependent  on  her  husband's  profes- 
sional earnings — we  are  not  playing  opera-bouffe.  I 
have  too  much  affection  for  my  child  to  let  her  suffer 
rather  than  put  myself  in  a  humiliating  position.  I 
will  only  ask  you  to  make  it  as  little  humiliating 
to  me  as  your  views  permit — I  am  an  old  man,  and 
a  more  sensitive  one  than  I  allow  my  enemies  to 
believe." 

Involuntarily  Keith  liked  him  better.  "  My  own 
wish  would  be  to  avoid  the  position  altogether,"  he 
said  gently. 

"  I  appreciate  your  meaning.  But  my  girl  is  dear 
to  you  too;  for  her  sake  you  will  see  that  it  is  our 
duty  not  to  spare  ourselves.  You  have  a  very  re- 
markable character,  Mr.  Keith;  I  have  the  very 
highest  admiration  for  your  principles;  but — I  shall 
be  candid — I  have  no  admiration  for  your  financial 
judgment.  You  have  shown  me  that  it  is  too  im- 
pulsive." 


i24  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

"How?" 

"  By  forming  a  decision  before  you  had  an  oppor- 
tunity to  investigate  the  system  that  you  have  con- 
demned. You  let  yourself  be  carried  away  by  the  side 
that  shouted,  and  you  forgot  that  it  might  be  the 
silent  side  that  was  right.  Now  I  am  going  to  say  to 
you  what  it  don't  interest  me  to  say  to  any  other  of 
my  critics :  my  enterprises  are  open  to  your  inspection, 
Mr.  Keith — ask  me  any  questions  you  please,  and  I 
will  answer  them." 

"  You  pay  me  a  great  compliment,"  said  Keith 
drily,  "  but,  as  you  may  be  aware,  I  am  not  qualified 
to  examine  you  on  financial  matters,  even  if  I  wished 
to  do  it." 

"Should  not  examination  precede  the  verdict?" 

"  Mr.  Lynch,  the  examination  has  been  made  by 
experts,  and  the  verdict  returned  by  the  World." 

The  heroics  were  genuine,  the  man  meant  it!  If 
Betty  had  only  stood  firm!  But  she  had  given  him 
full  swing,  so  he  had  to  be  conciliated.  There  was 
hatred  in  Lynch's  heart,  and  good-humour  in  his 
smile. 

"  Has  experience  in  your  own  line  convinced  you 
that  the  World's  verdict  is  always  sound?  I  guess  I 
have  heard  of  great  artists  much  misapprehended  by 
the  World?" 

Keith  found  no  reply. 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  125 

"  Come,  Mr.  Keith,  I  want  you  to  see  it  my  way ! 
Put  these  difficulties  of  yours  before  me,  and  I  will 
meet  them  squarely — and  not  entirely  for  Betty's 
sake  now.  I  like  your  grit!  You  haven't  cool  brains, 
but  you  have  something  more  wonderful;  I  should 
be  proud  to  shake  your  hand  before  I  go,  and 
you  have  got  to  do  me  justice  before  that  can 
happen.  See  here,  Betty's  husband  has  got  to  go 
right  top!  I  hear  you  are  a  genius — and  everybody 
has  got  to  recognise  it.  I  don't  know  much  about 
your  profession,  but  I  know  something  about  life. 
I  presume  that  the  artist  who  can  take  a  big  house 
and  entertain  big  people  will  get  there  considerably 
sooner  than  the  artist  who  has  no  dollars  to  speak 
for  him.  I  aim  at  seeing  you  President  of  the  Royal 
Academy.  What  is  there  between  us?  There  always 
have  been,  and  there  always  must  be,  a  few  very  rich 
men;  and  there  always  have  been,  and  there  always 
must  be,  many  more  very  poor  ones.  To  abuse  a 
millionaire  because  there  are  bankrupts  on  the  earth 
is  as  unreasonable  as  to  sling  mud  at  Niagara  because 
there  are  droughts." 

"  Nobody  but  an  anarchist,  or  some  other  sort  of 
lunatic,  would  abuse  a  man  merely  for  being  a  million- 
aire, or  a  multi-millionaire.  One  reviles  methods,  not 
millions." 

"  Well,  let  us  get  down  to  business !  Between  you 


i26  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

and  I  there  can  be  a  perfect  frankness.  What  are  the 

methods  that  are  worrying  you  ?  " 

"  I'd  rather  not  go  into  details — to  Betty's  father, 
and  in  my  own  house." 

"  It's  just  strait-laced  square  dealing  that  you 
quit  talking  generalities  and  specify  your  objec- 
tions." 

"  Well,  then,  I  object  to  a  fortune  amassed  by 
refusing  poorer  men  the  power  to  live.  I  find  the 
methods  of  such  a  Trust  as  yours,  sir,  as  devoid  of 
Christianity,  and  patriotism,  and  sympathy  as  the 
methods  of  the  primeval  ages,  when  Might  was  Right. 
And  I  object  to  a  fortune  amassed  by  plunder,  by 
wholesale  trickery,  and  perjury,  and  corruption;  by 
bribing  a  Press  to  spread  lies  broadcast  for  the  snare 
of  the  life-earnings  of  thousands,  and  the  iniquitous 
enrichment  of  a  few  millionaires  who  have  already 
more  millions  than  they  can  spend — lies  of  enormous 
finds  in  mines  that  are  worthless,  and  of  enormous 
profits  from  shares  that  are  being  given  a  fictitious 
value  by  bogus  transactions.  I  object  to  a  fortune 
that  creates  defaulters,  and  suicides,  and  prostitutes — 
and  I  object  to  my  wife  battening  on  them!  " 

He  had  said  it,  although  his  voice  had  shaken  and 
his  pulses  had  thumped;  and  though  he  was  too  un- 
nerved now  to  look  at  Lynch,  he  was  glad  that  it  was 
said.  Behind  Lynch's  impassive  features  fury  was 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  127 

blazing;  and  behind  the  fury  was  one  poignant,  pure 
regret :  "  That's  how  he  speaks  of  me  to  my  girl !  " 

It  was  not  a  moment  when  he  could  afford  fury — 
the  moment  demanded  prompt,  grave,  and  whole- 
hearted lying. 

"  You  would  be  quite  right  to  object,"  he  said 
smoothly.  "  So  would  any  honest  man !  But  why 
accept  this  poppycock  without  investigation?  You 
repeat  the  charge  that  I  bribe  a  section  of  the  Press 
to  spread  lies  for  the  snare  of  investors.  Mr.  Keith, 
that  charge  is  itself  a  lie  which  a  section  of  the  Press 
was  bribed  to  spread.  It  was  the  other  side  of  the 
game!"  He  smiled  wistfully.  Richard,  meeting  his 
gaze,  confused,  found  it  deep  with  reproachful  sorrow. 
If  a  stranger  had  entered  the  room,  he  would  have 
taken  the  accuser  for  a  culprit,  and  the  accused  for 
a  benefactor  whose  confidence  had  been  betrayed. 
"  Might  is  not  necessarily  Right  ?  No,  sir.  But  do 
not  imagine  that  Noise  is  necessarily  Truth.  A  man 
cannot  make  millions  without  making  enemies  too.  I 
do  not  say  I  am  a  philanthropist,  I  shall  not  pretend 
to  you  for  a  single  instant  that  my  notions  are  as  lofty 
as  all  your  own — the  world  has  been  too  rough  on  me 
for  me  to  have  a  wholesale  tenderness  for  the  world. 
You  have  spoken  of  '  patriotism.'  W-e-11,  I  am  a 
naturalised  American  citizen;  but  I  was  born  in  this 
grey  little  island,  and  as  a  poor  boy  I  found  England 


128  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

no  more  interested  in  my  miseries  than  I  afterwards 
found  America.  When  I  went  without  shoes,  the  stones 
of  Lancashire  were  no  gentler  to  my  feet  because  I 
trod  my  native  land.  When  I  had  empty  pockets, 
the  British  storekeepers  were  no  more  benevolent 
than  the  aliens.  If  I  had  died  of  starvation  on 
the  street,  my  death  would  have  caused  no  more 
concern  to  England  than  to  any  other  country.  I 
do  not  know  what  '  patriotism '  means ;  I  do  not 
allow  that  any  callous  parent  is  entitled  to  affection. 
Tenderness  deserves  tenderness,  but  I  cannot  under- 
stand why  an  outcast  should  feel  more  sentimental 
about  the  soil  of  the  land  he  was  born  in  than  about 
the  planks  of  the  ship  if  he  was  born  in  mid-ocean. 
You  have  spoken  of  '  sympathy.'  I  have  seen  no  results 
from  it.  If  you  expect  advancement  from  sympathy, 
I  warn  you  that  you  are  putting  your  hopes  into  rotten 
stock.  Sympathy  is  the  emotion  that  accomplishes 
nothing.  Ambition,  love,  hate,  jealousy,  greed,  they 
all  hustle,  and  make  history;  sympathy  loafs,  and 
makes  phrases.  It  is  the  weakling  of  the  emotional 
group.  I  say  these  things  because  I  wish  to  be  sincere 
with  you.  I  do  not  propose  to  claim  any  virtues  that 
I  do  not  possess;  but,  Mr.  Keith,  I  do  claim,  and  I 
have  the  right  to  claim,  that  throughout  my  career 
I  have  never  committed  a  dishonourable  act,  never 
wronged  man,  woman,  or  child.  I  will  illustrate.  I 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  129 

will  show  you  what  I  mean  by  the  '  other  side  of  the 
game.'  You  shall  see  how  a  man  who  has  treated 
his  friends  and  his  business  associates  with  the  utmost 
generosity  may  be  attacked  by  some  of  the  men  whom 
he  has  served  most,  and  how  these  very  indictments, 
which  arouse  indignation  against  him,  are  hatched 
simply  to  divert  the  public's  dollars  into  schemes  more 
lucrative  to  the  organisers." 

With  a  patience  that  was  marvellous  he  led  Keith, 
step  by  step,  through  transactions  of  magnitude — 
translating,  descanting,  yet  talking  with  so  much 
tact  that  he  instructed  a  novice  with  the  air  of  con- 
fiding to  a  mind  as  astute  as  his  own.  "  Till  you 
can  crush  your  opponent,  flatter  him ! "  had  been 
one  of  the  maxims  of  his  life.  He  had  matched  his 
wits  against  some  of  the  keenest  financial  intellects 
of  the  world,  and  emerged  triumphant;  but,  in  its 
way,  as  clever  a  thing  as  he  had  ever  done  was  the 
task  of  the  next  hour,  while,  without  a  trace  of  weari- 
ness, he  reduced  the  intricacies  of  Wall  Street  open* 
tions  to  terms  intelligible  to  a  schoolboy,  and  simul- 
taneously invented  conspiracies  and  figures  to  prove 
his  falsehoods. 

And  at  the  end,  Keith  looked  him  in  the  eyes 
and  said,  "  My  wife  does  not  touch  a  shilling  of  such 
money,  as  God  hears!  " 

The  average  man's  self-control  would  have  snapped. 


i3o  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

Lynch  desired  a  conversation  with  Betty  before  she 
had  been  prepared  for  it;  to  take  offence  would 
mean  to  take  leave  and  give  her  husband  an  oppor- 
tunity to  coach  her.  He  indulged  in  the  faintest 
shrug. 

"  We  are  told,  *  The  truth  is  mighty,  and  will  pre- 
vail,' "  he  said  pleasantly,  "  but  there  is  no  clause  re 
time-limit.  I  will  illustrate  further !  " 

Only  when  she  had  come  in  and  they  were  left 
together  did  he  permit  himself  the  luxury  of  vehem- 
ence. He  read  her  mind  in  her  first  evasion,  and 
wrath  and  protest  poured  from  him  as  he  paced  the 
room.  But  she  would  not  acknowledge  that  she  was 
dissatisfied.  She  spoke  of  Keith's  devotion.  She  gave 
instances  of  his  tenderness.  She  boasted  that  she 
had  never  known  what  it  meant  to  ask  him  for 
money,  or  to  have  an  empty  purse.  And  at  the 
back  of  her  brain  all  the  while  was  the  longing  for 
him  to  yield,  the  regret  at  hearing  that  he  had  been 
firm. 

"  Betty,"  said  Lynch,  "  I  have  been  proud  of  you — 
don't  make  me  think  you  a  fool,  honey.  I've  got 
a  fool  for  a  son — leave  me  my  daughter!  Have  I 
been  so  harsh  to  you  that  you  should  punish  me  this 
way?  Can't  you  feel  what  it'll  mean  to  me  to  leave 
you  in  a  house  like  this?  I  can't  stand  it.  I  guess 
a  father  has  got  rights  too.  /  loved  you  when  you 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  131 

were  a  baby,  /'ve  been  tender  to  you  all  your  life; 
what  has  this  man  done,  who  comes  around  when 
you're  a  woman,  to  wipe  me  out  in  your  affections? 
You  ain't  fair  with  me.  I  can't  do  anything  if  you're 
dogged — it's  waste  of  time  my  making  a  settlement 
if  you  won't  spend  the  dollars.  It's  right  here  that 
you  have  got  to  put  this  thing  through!  Handle 
it  while  his  love's  fresh.  See  here,  women  kick  up 
a  rumpus  about  men  having  too  much  power;  but 
I  tell  you  this,  with  a  lifetime  of  experience  behind 
me — there's  no  power  on  earth  like  a  pretty  woman's. 
Only  she's  like  a  horse — she  don't  know  her  own 
strength,  or  no  man  could  boss  her.  What  you've  got 
to  do  is  to  tell  him  that  it  don't  suit  you  to  play  at 
being  crazy  any  longer.  The  bigger  his  love,  the  safer 
your  position!  He'll  climb  down." 

"  I  promised  him,"  she  reiterated,  "  I  promised  him 
before  we  were  married.  Please  don't  say  any  more. 
It's  no  good.  I  can't  do  it." 

"  W-e-11,  I  am  beaten !  I  came  for  nothing.  I 
guess  I'll  go  back  by  the  next  boat.  Shall  I  see 
you  again?  Will  you  come  and  stay  with  me  till 
I  sail?" 

"  I'll  come,  of  course,  but  I  won't  stay." 

"Why  not?" 

"  I  think  we  understand  all  each  other's  reasons, 
poppa,"  said  Betty,  smiling  crookedly.  "  If  I  went 


132  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

to  stay  with  you,  it  wouldn't  make  this  look  much 

better  to  me  afterwards,  eh  ?  " 

His  purpose  was  detected — but  it  was  his  own 
daughter  who  had  seen  through  him.  Lynch  sighed — 
but  patted  her  hand  with  approval. 


No,  she  wouldn't  stay  at  the  hotel,  but  the  waiters 
and  the  table  appointments  were  not  without  an  in- 
fluence when  she  lunched  or  dined  there;  nor  was 
Lynch  the  person  to  accept  defeat  so  easily  as  he  had 
pretended. 

He  harped  no  more  on  his  own  feelings,  nor  on  her 
privations ;  he  questioned  her  about  Keith's  work :  and 
she  had  never  liked  her  father  so  well  as  while  he 
listened  to  her  rhapsodies,  with  an  assumption  of 
growing  interest,  and  made  generous  remarks  about 
the  man  who,  she  gathered,  had  abused  him.  "  The 
Harbour  of  Souls,"  she  declared,  would  be  a  great 
picture  one  day — by  far  the  most  important  thing  that 
Richard  had  ever  done — but  the  day  was  distant;  nat- 
urally, he  had  other  things  to  do  in  the  meantime!  It 
was  to  this  that  Lynch  had  been  guiding  her.  Wealth, 
he  exclaimed,  would  have  absolved  her  husband  from 
the  need  for  doing  the  "  other  things  " — wealth  would 
have  given  his  genius  full  play!  As  it  was — well,  of 
course,  marriage  was  bound  to  handicap  him ;  he  could 

133 


i34  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

not  hope  to  be  famous  so  young  as  if  he  hadn't  a  wife 
to  support!  Even  the  luncheons  and  dinners  provided 
opportunities,  though  they  fell  short  of  the  tempta- 
tions projected. 

Betty  was  much  too  acute  to  miss  the  motive  for 
such  regrets — she  realised,  directly  they  were  ut- 
tered, that  she  had  been  adroitly  led  to  a  desired  cue 
— but,  for  all  that,  there  was  sufficient  truth  in  the 
words  for  them  to  stick. 

Though  Keith  did  his  best  to  disguise  aversion,  the 
sight  of  her  going  forth  to  visit  her  father  every  day 
was  far  from  being  pleasant.  He  was  infinitely  relieved 
one  evening,  when  she  had  come  back,  to  hear  that  the 
date  for  Lynch 's  departure  was  fixed. 

"  I  suppose  you're  not  sorry  to  hear  it?  "  she  said. 
There  was  a  new  umbrage  in  her  tone. 

"  Have  I  made  any  complaint  about  your  going?" 
he  returned,  startled. 

"  I  haven't  noticed  much  enthusiasm !  " 

"  You  can  hardly  expect  me  to  be  '  enthusiastic/ 
I  shouldn't  be  enthusiastic  about  your  being  out  all 
day,  wherever  you  went." 

She  drummed  her  fingers  on  the  mantelshelf.  "If  my 
father  came  here,  I  shouldn't  have  to  go  to  him  so  often." 

"  The  house  is  open  to  him,  Betty." 

"  Well,  I  should  hope  so — if  he  chose  to  come  to  it 
after  the  way  you  received  him !  "  she  said. 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  135 

It  was  the  first  hint  of  dissension.  He  took  a  turn 
about  the  room — and  put  an  arm  round  her. 

"  I've  been  afraid  of  this — don't  let  it  happen !  " 

Her  figure  was  not  responsive. 

"  I  told  you  the  same  night  that  I  was  sorry  I  had 
said  so  much.  But  it  had  to  be  then,  or  not  at  all." 

"  It  might  have  been  '  not  at  all.'  " 

"  It  isn't  easy  to  refuse  to  let  a  man  do  things  for  his 
own  child  and  to  hold  back  your  reason  for  it.  You 
told  me  you  understood  ?  "  His  caress  tightened.  "  You 
aren't  going  to  be  angry  with  me?" 

She  uttered  a  little  choky  cry  and  clutched  at  him. 
"  We  might  have  been  so  comfortable !  "  she  quavered. 

His  heart  seemed  to  stand  still.  He  had  failed,  then ! 
The  drawing-room  that  he  had  thought  rather  luxuri- 
ous looked  pathetically  stupid  across  her  shoulder. 
There  was  a  long  pause. 

She  wished  he  would  speak.  She  wished  she  hadn't 
said  it.  "Oh,  Dick!" 

"I  didn't  know,"  said  Keith  drearily.  "  I— yes, 
I've  wondered." 

"  It's  nothing.  I  didn't  mean  to  tell  you ;  I  meant 

to  tell  you  about  something  quite  different!  But 

Oh,  you  think  me  such  a  sneak,  don't  you,  after  I 
promised  ?  " 

"  I  want  you  to  tell  me  the  truth  always.  Has  it — 
have  you  been  uncomfortable  long?" 


136  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

"It's  so  hard!" 

"  I  mean,  is  it  only  since  he  came  over  ?  I  don't 
want  to  deceive  myself,  but  has  it  been  so  hard  all  the 
time?" 

"  Not  at  first — I  mean,  not  till  we  were  here.  Don't 
think  that,  oh  no !  " 

"  It's  this,  the  house  ?  You — oh,  don't  tremble, 
don't  be  afraid!  Whom  should  you  speak  to,  if  not 
me?  Aren't  we  one?  Why,  I  want  to  hear  your 
troubles;  it  brings  me  closer  to  you  to  hear  your 
troubles  than  your  pleasures.  Tell  me  everything,  just 
as  if  you  were  thinking  aloud." 

"  It's  because  I'm  a  fool.  I  don't  know  how  to  man- 
age— and  the  servants  see  it.  They're  awful!  They 
make  it  worse  for  me.  I  think  of  them  when  I  wake  up, 
the  first  thing!  Dick,  they're  spoiling  our  home  to  me. 
I'm  afraid  of  them !  " 

He  strangled  an  oath.  "  Afraid  of  them  ?  I'll  pitch 
them  out  of  the  house  neck  and  crop  to-morrow  morn- 
ing. I'd  send  them  off  to-night  if  it  weren't  too  late! 
Why  didn't  you  say  so?  Why  didn't  you  come  to  me 
about  it  ?  My  poor  little  girl ! " 

"  The  new  ones  'd  be  just  the  same.  I  daresay  they 
don't  mean  any  harm — it's  my  own  fault;  I  don't 
understand."  She  clung  to  him  tearfully.  "  Dickie, 
duckie,  you  know  I  loathe  going  back  on  what  I  said, 
but  don't  you  think  we  might  let  poppa  do  a  little  for 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  137 

us — just  a  little?  I  don't  ask  you  to  take  much — I 
know  you'd  feel  too  bad  about  it — but  if  we  had  just 
a  few  thousand  pounds  a  year,  it'd  make  everything 
so  different.  It  would  all  be  lovely  then!  It  isn't  only 
me — there's  you  too;  you'd  get  on  so  much  faster. 
You  could  start  on  your  picture  right  away.  If  we  go 
on  like  this,  I  know  very  well  that  by  and  by  you'll 
be  sorry  you  cared  for  me.  You  can't  succeed  so  soon 
as  if  you  weren't  married.  I  want  to  be  of  use  to  you,  I 
want  to  be  a  chum ;  I  can't  be  a  chum  if  I'm  a  burden, 
and  it  makes  me  feel  miserable,  knowing  I  could  do  so 
much  if  you'd  only  let  me.  It  humiliates  me  to  think 
I'm  a  drawback  to  my  husband — I  never  thought  I'd 
be  that!  Poppa  likes  you;  he  admires  you  for  your 
pluck  in  standing  up  to  him,  though  he  says  your  ideas 
about  it  are  quite  wrong.  If  you'd  only  say  '  Yes/  I 
could  tell  him  in  the  morning,  and  he  could  fix  it  up 
before  he  goes.  Think  what  it  would  be!  All  of  a 
sudden!  In  five  minutes  all  the  horrors  would  be  over 
— all  our  life  would  be  just  as  beautiful  as  our  honey- 
moon! Just  a  little,  Dickie — what  is  it  out  of  all  the 
millions  ?  Couldn't  we  take  just  enough  to  make  things 
smooth  ?  " 

It  was  one  of  the  moments  when  man  strives, 
speechless  and  voiceless,  for  words  to  utter  his  very 
soul.  What  could  he  answer  that  would  make  him 
seem  less  than  brutal  to  her? 


138  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

"  I'd  do  anything  else  on  earth  for  you,"  he  stam- 
mered, and  execrated  his  own  triteness. 

To  her  the  blow  was  as  heavy  as  to  him.  He  wasn't 
going  to  yield!  She  had  not  realised  till  now  how  it 
had  supported  her  to  believe  that  the  remedy  was 
within  her  reach;  she  had  not  meant  to  take  it,  she 
had  only  glanced  at  it  sometimes  for  encouragement. 
All  at  once  it  had  vanished — the  future  was  bare.  It 
was  to  go  on  like  this  for  years  and  years!  What  he 
was  saying  came  to  her  muffled. 

"  Don't  you  see  that  it  doesn't  matter  whether  we 
take  much  or  little  ? "  he  pleaded  wretchedly.  "  It's 
not  the  amount  that  makes  it  right  or  wrong ;  if  it  were 
right  of  me  to  say  '  Yes  '  to  a  little,  it  would  be  wrong 
of  me  to  draw  the  line  at  all.  Oh,  Betty  darling,  you 
know  the  broken  lives  behind  this  money!  You  know 
what  I  say  about  it  is  true — you've  told  me  that  you 
know !  For  God's  sake,  don't  ask  me  to  hold  you  at.  a 
price  like  that! — it  would  degrade  us,  it  would  poison 
our  love.  Our  marriage  will  never  be  a  drawback  to  me 
if  we  play  the  game  honestly — you  will  be  a  help,  you 
will  be  a  chum,  just  as  you  want  to  be.  It's  not  you 
who've  been  a  fool,  it's  I.  I  ought  to  be  kicked  for  giv- 
ing you  housekeeping  to  do.  I  ought  to  have  remem- 
bered. I  hate  myself  for  being  such  a  blockhead ! " 

"  Oh,  nonsense !  "  she  said  dismally. 

"  That's  the  only  thing,  isn't  it?  You  say  you  were 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  139 

happy  before?  If  it  weren't  for  that,  you  wouldn't 
mind?" 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  Well,  we'll  give  the  house  up !  We'll  take  a  flat 
where  there's  a  restaurant  downstairs.  We  ought  to 
have  done  it  at  the  beginning." 

"  As  if  I'd  let  you  be  so  crazy,  when  we've  only  just 
come  in ! " 

"  It  doesn't  matter  when  we  came  in,  I'm  not  going 
to  have  you  made  miserable  if  I  can  help  it.  Oh,  kiddy, 
don't  think  me  cruel  to  you.  I  know  it  sounds  the 
cheapest  thing  in  the  world  to  say  I'd  do  anything  ex- 
cepting what  you  ask,  but  I  can't  do  that — I  can't, 
I  can't!  I'll  take  you  out  of  the  house  to-morrow; 
you  shan't  spend  another  day  in  it.  We'll  go  to  an 
hotel  till  we've  found  what  we  want — and  we'll  go  to  a 
nice  one.  Curse  the  servants!  When  I  think  what 
you've  been  going  through  while  I  was  imagining  I 

had  done  all  I  could  to  make  you  happy,  I 'Afraid 

of  them ' !  "  Pain  and  rage  mastered  him.  He  flung 
to  the  electric  button,  and  was  sorry  that  it  wasn't  a 
bell-handle  that  he  could  wrench. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  I'm  going  to  give  them  notice !  " 

"  They  can't  go  now." 

"  I  can  give  them  notice  now,  though !  What  do  you 
suppose  I'm  made  of?  Do  you  suppose  I'm  made  of 


i4o             THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 
bricks-and-mortar,  that  I  can  bear  to  see  you  cry,  and 
have  to  look  like  a  tyrant,  and  know  that  it  all  comes 
from  those ?  " 

"Dick!  "  she  said  urgently,  "Dick,  don't!  They've 
never  been  rude,  never.  Please!  Don't  make  a  fuss 
to-night ! " 

He  sat  down  trembling. 

The  housemaid  opened  the  door :  "  Yes  'm  ?  " 

"  You've  forgotten  the  syphon,"  said  Betty. 

"  It's  on  the  little  table  'm." 

"  Oh,  is  it?  I  didn't  notice.  Very  well." 

She  had  no  passion  for  money  as  the  sententious 
knight,  and  his  wife,  who  doled  out  the  sugar,  had  a 
passion  for  it ;  she  did  not  worship  money  for  money's 
sake.  Measured  by  the  profusion  that  she  had  been 
taught  to  take  for  granted,  her  requirements  had,  in- 
deed, been  reduced  to  the  point  of  heroism — she  only 
asked  for  peace.  The  prospect  of  being  relieved  from 
the  housekeeping  had  lightened  her  mood  almost  as 
much  as  if  he  had  consented  to  her  appeal.  Laughter 
quivered  in  her  voice  now,  though  it  was  more  than  a 
shade  hysterical. 

"  She  little  knows  what  I've  saved  her  from ! " 

Keith  could  not  laugh  yet. 

She  knelt  on  a  pouf  beside  him :  "  You'll  make  me 
sorry  I  told  you." 

"You  aren't  to  say  that!  I'm  thankful — I've  never 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  141 

been  more  thankful  for  anything  in  my  life.  It  isn't 
your  telling  me  that  upsets  me,  it's  my  own  idiocy  in 
needing  to  be  told.  You  'don't  know  how  bitter  it  is  to 
a  man,  when  he  loves  a  woman,  to  hear  she  has  had  a 
big  trouble  that  he  didn't  see.  Well,  I'll  try  to  make 
up  to  you  for  it !  You  won't  have  to  think  of  the  serv- 
ants when  you  wake  to-morrow,  kiddy !  " 

"  You  really  mean  it  ?  I  feel  awful  selfish.  I  do,  I 
feel  a  monster !  " 

"  Where's  your  face,  monster  ?  Don't  keep  it  such  a 
long  way  off." 

"  A  flat  will  cost  ever  so  much  more,  you  know  it 
will,"  she  purred,  nestling  to  him.  "  With  a  restaurant 
downstairs,  it'll  be  perfectly  ruinous  to  you.  And 
where  will  you  work  ?  " 

"  I'll  work  in  my  old  studio — it's  lucky  I've  still 
got  it." 

"  That'll  be  two  rents,  then  ?  Besides  this  one !  We 
won't  be  able  to  get  rid  of  it  in  a  hurry,  you  may  be 
sure.  And  think  of  the  money  it  has  cost — look  at  the 
windows,  and  the  wall-papers.  Oh,  it's  wicked ! "  She 
sprang  up  resolutely.  "  No,  we  can't  do  it.  I  mean  it. 
I  won't  do  it !  "  She  was  quite  sincere,  she  didn't  mean 
to  do  it. 

"  Of  course  the  wall-papers  must  be  considered  be- 
fore you"  said  Keith ;  "  what  else  are  wall-papers  made 
for  ?  Do  you  mind  bringing  that  cheek  back — I'm  tak- 


i42  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

ing  a  chill.  .  .  .  Do  you  know — is  that  right,  are  you 
comfortable? — do  you  know,  I'm  not  sorry  to  get  out 
of  this  ?  I'm  not,  upon  my  word !  "  he  went  on,  with 
rising  spirits.  "  There's  something  rather  depressing 
about  it,  I  think — perhaps  it's  a  gravel  soil." 

"What  does  that  do?" 

"  I  don't  know  exactly,  but  I  know  it  isn't  right.  Or 
perhaps  it's  a  clay  soil  that  isn't  right — I  know  when 
people  take  a  house  there's  some  sort  of  soil  they  don't 
want.  A  flat  will  be  ever  so  much  cosier — much  better 
for  me,  too.  I  hate  the  tradesmen  banging  at  the  side 
door  all  the  morning;  and  the  woman  opposite  is  such 
an  object." 

"  She  doesn't  interfere  with  us,  does  she  ?  " 

"  I  don't  like  her  profile ;  it  infuriates  me.  I'm  glad 
we're  going,  for  lots  of  reasons." 

"7'd  sing  for  joy,  if  I  didn't  feel  so  mean.  Lucky 
thing  for  you  I  feel  mean ! " 

"  If  you  talk  any  more  nonsense  about  feeling 
'  mean,'  I'll  shake  you.  Are  you  going  to  be  good  ?  " 

"  Mmps." 

"  Well,  then,  let's  decide  everything.  Now  I  come 

to  think  of  it Why  do  you  always  push  my  hair 

backwards  ?  " 

"  I  d'n'  know— I  like  it.  Don't  be  so  vain !  Well  ? 
Now  you  come  to  think  of  it?  " 

"  Now  I  come  to  think  of  it,  I  believe  flats  of  that 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  143 

kind  are  always  let  furnished.  I'm  not  sure  if  you  can 
get  an  unfurnished  flat  with  catering." 

"  What's  to  become  of  our  furniture,  then  ?  " 

"  We  might  give  it  to  the  servants,  as  a  token  of 
appreciation." 

"No,  but  really?" 

"  Well,  I  suppose  we'd  better  sell  it.  By  Jove,  that'll 
put  us  in  funds  again — we'll  go  out  to  dinner  on  the 
strength  of  it.  Tread  on  the  carpets  carefully  to-night 
and  keep  'em  new !  " 

"  We  might  find  an  unfurnished  flat,  mightn't  we?" 
said  Betty. 

"  We  might."  He  pondered.  "  But  there'd  be  no  use 
for  the  stair-carpets,  anyhow.  Nor  the  rods." 

"  No."  She  also  reflected.  "  And  the  flat  wouldn't 
be  as  big  as  the  house — we  couldn't  get  all  the  things 
into  it." 

"  I  hadn't  thought  of  that.  Well,  it's  all  the  more 
reason  why  we  should  sell  them — it's  no  good  storing 
them  for  years.  Besides,  when  we  take  a  house  again, 
they'd  be  lost  in  it." 

"  Buckingham  Palace  ?  " 

"  No,  it's  too  near  the  railway  line ;  we'll  want 
something  select.  We'll  do  it  properly  next  time — 
servants  that  know  their  business.  I  hope  the  flat  won't 
be  too  poky,  though !  " 

"  It  can  be  as  poky  as  it  likes,  we  don't  want  to  play 


144  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

hide-and-seek.  It  doesn't  matter  how  small  it  is,  if 
you  have  your  studio  outside.  All  we  need — why,  it 
oughtn't  to  cost  so  much  more,  after  all,  ought  it  ?  " 

"  I  should  think  we  could  go  West  for  about  the 
same  rent.  If  we  only  need  a  drawing-room  and  a 
bedroom " 

"  It — it'll  have  to  be  more  than  that,"  she  murmured. 

"  We  shall  take  our  meals  in  the  restaurant,  you 
know." 

"  Still,  we'll  want  a  third  room " 

"  For  our  luggage  ?  " 

"  No."  She  slipped  a  little  closer,  and  her  eyes  were 
hidden  from  him.  "  We'll  want  a  third  room,  Dickie — 
for  someone  else  by  and  by." 


XI 

REALISING  the  vision  in  the  cardboard  house,  the 
morning  sun  shone  on  her  face  between  the  dra- 
peries when  she  woke,  but  Keith  was  too  busy 
packing  to  appreciate  that  gleam  of  irony. 

"  If  we  make  haste,  we  can  be  out  of  the  place  and 
comfortably  settled  at  the  hotel  before  luncheon," 
he  explained. 

She  contemplated  the  confusion  with  her  arms 
round  his  neck.  Among  her  charms  was  the  one  that 
no  beauty  specialist  undertakes  to  restore  with  a 
"  remarkable  preparation  " — the  charm  of  waking 
up  lovely. 

"It  looks  as  if  it  had  been  raining  shirts," she  pouted. 

"  You  should  have  seen  it  five  minutes  ago!  " 

"  Do  you  think  we  ought  to  rush  it  so,  really? 
Don't  you  think  if  we  went  to-morrow  instead " 

"  I'll  help  you  with  your  things;  that's  why  I 
wanted  to  get  mine  done  early.  I  hope  I  didn't  make 
a  noise?  No,  I  don't  want  you  to  have  another  day 
here;  I  want  to  whisk  you  right  out  of  it.  Let's  make 


i46  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

a  dash  and  get  it  over!  I'll  go  round  to  the  agent's 

directly  after  breakfast." 

"  Hark  at  my  American  husband!  All  right,  we 
needn't  take  a  heap — we  can  come  back  and  finish?  " 

"  /  can.  You  take  all  your  clothes  now;  you  don't 
cross  the  door-mat  again! "  He  returned  to  the  lit- 
ter, and  wrestled  with  a  portmanteau  that  wouldn't 
fasten.  "  Do  you  know,  I've  been  thinking  we  had 
better  let  the  servants  stop,  after  all;  if  we  leave  the 
house  empty,  we'll  have  a  burglary,  and  we  aren't 
insured.  I  can  give  them  notice,  just  the  same,  and 
tell  them  why!" 

"  If  you  give  them  notice,  it's  likely  to  be  empty 
anyhow  sometimes — they'll  do  as  they  please,  with 
us  away." 

"That's  true." 

"  I  think  it'd  be  best  to  part  amiably  with  them, 
and  let  them  imagine  we're  only  going  for  a  few 
days;  if  they  don't  know  when  to  expect  us  back, 
they'll  have  to  be  careful." 

"  Upon  my  word,  they're  triumphant  to  the  last!  " 
He  threw  the  portmanteau  viciously.  "  They're  driv- 
ing us  out,  and  we've  got  to  grin  at  them  when  we 
go.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  you  know,  I  suppose  there 
are  things  to  be  done  in  such  cases,  but  it's  a  mys- 
tery how  people  learn  them;  there  ought  to  be  a 
book  published  on  the  subject,  '  First  Steps  to  Get- 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  147 

ting  Even  with  your  Servants.'  It's  these  boots  that 
prevent  my  shutting  it!  It's  a  marvellous  thing,  I 
haven't  got  any  clothes,  and  two  trunks  aren't  big 
enough  to  hold  them.  Very  well,  just  as  you  like. 
We'll  take  it  smiling,  and " 

"  Battle  with  the  baggage  bravely! "  she  said. 
"  Fix  your  gaze  on  the  hotel,  weary  one — it'll  be 
very  restful  and  expensive." 

It  was  a  long  while  before  the  moment  was 
reached,  but  when  the  last  strap  had  been  buckled, 
and  the  last  "  mate  "  had  mopped  his  brow  after 
lifting  a  bonnet-box,  they  recovered  something  of 
the  honeymoon  spirit,  as  they  were  rattled  towards 
Kensington  in  a  decrepit  four-wheeler.  And  the 
hotel  looked  a  haven  of  repose,  as  she  had  predicted; 
and  Keith,  who  felt  that  his  plan  had  been  masterly 
and  his  execution  brilliant,  was  a  lively  companion 
till  he  insisted  on  ringing  for  somebody  to  remove 
two  prints  from  the  bedroom  walls. 

"  But  they're  by  Landseer,"  expostulated  Betty; 
"  the  people  will  think  we're  crazy." 

"Let  them  think!  Never  be  dazzled  by  names! 
These  things  are  not  pictures,  they're  brutalities. 
Look  at  '  Waiting  for  the  Deer  to  Rise.'  Ruffians 
crouching  to  destroy  a  splendid  animal!  Is  there 
anything  beautiful  in  that?  We  won't  ask  if  it's 
'  ennobling,'  but  is  there  a  gleam  of  beauty  in  it? 


i48  THE    HOUSE    OF   LYNCH 

Now  look  at  '  How  to  get  the  Deer  Home';  that's 
worse  art  still.  The  composition  is  all  subordinated 
to  the  tortured  face  of  the  animal  in  its  death  agonies. 
The  subjects  are  revolting.  An  artist  would  never 
have  touched  them." 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  I  see  it  now.  I  hadn't  thought 
of  it  like  that." 

So  the  prints  in  their  maple  frames  were  banished, 
and  the  hotel  manager  was  much  diverted  privately 
by  "these  visitors'  ignorance,  in  objecting  to  pictures 
which,  if  they  had  only  noticed  it,  were  by  Landseer!" 

They  gave  themselves  a  short  holiday.  Then  they 
went  out  to  conquer,  and  came  back  to  quail.  In  the 
morning  they  discovered  that  they  could  not  "  go 
West  for  about  the  same  rent  ";  and  in  the  afternoon 
they  learnt  that  they  could  not  go  to  Clement's  Inn 
either,  nor  even  to  Maida  Vale.  By  the  following 
night  they  had  serious  doubts  whether  they  would 
be  able  to  go  anywhere,  for  every  microscopic  and 
exorbitant  flat  that  they  viewed  addressed  itself  to 
bachelors  only.  The  quest  extended  to  strange  dis- 
tricts, and  it  was  revealed  to  the  innocents  that  the 
modern  landlord,  with  a  house  that  would  be  diffi- 
cult to  let  for  a  hundred  a  year,  calls  each  of  its 
storeys  a  "  flat,"  and  lets  it  for  three  hundred  and 
fifty  instead. 

"  The  dazzle  of  the  name,"  said  Keith,  "  there  we 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  149 

have  it  again !  Shakespeare  didn't  say  *  What's  in  a 
name  ? '  as  a  writing-man,  he  saw  the  value  of  a  name 
thoroughly.  The  bosh  was  Juliet's,  who  saw  noth- 
ing but  Romeo." 

"  Oh,  don't  improve  the  occasion,"  said  Betty, 
"  my  shoes  are  pinching.  It  seems  to  me  we  might 
as  well  ask  for  a  brace  of  dodos.  By  rights,  we  ought 
to  give  the  idea  up." 

He  knew  that  as  well  as  she.  If  they  had  been  prac- 
tical they  would  have  searched  for  better  servants, 
and  returned  to  Sibella  Road.  But  he  loved  her — 
marriage  had  deepened  the  man's  feelings,  too — so 
he  only  put  her  into  a  hansom,  and  said,  "  Well,  after 
all,  in  a  flat  there  are  no  rates  and  taxes  to  pay! " 

It  is  a  fatal  phrase. 

And  there  was  the  determining  influence  of  the 
"  party."  Scarcely  a  fortnight  had  gone  by  when  the 
agent  in  St.  John's  Wood  wrote  that  the  villa  could 
be  sub-let  to  a  "  party  "  who  was  not  unwilling  to 
acquire  all  the  new  furniture  for  considerably  less 
than  it  had  cost. 

"  It  seems  too  lucky  to  be  true!"  cried  Betty 
joyously. 

It  wasn't. 

Opulent  from  the  sale  of  the  furniture,  Keith 
heard  flat  rents  with  fortitude. 

They  succumbed  to  Telemachus  Mansions. 


ISO  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

Telemachus  Mansions  were  squeezed  into  a  back 
street  near  the  hotel,  and  were  accordingly  boastful 
of  being  Kensington.  They  boasted  also  that  the 
tenants  "  enjoyed  the  benefits  pertaining  to  a  per- 
fectly appointed  home,  without  the  vexations  of 
housekeeping."  The  rooms  had  not  been  constructed 
to  hold  many  things,  but  that  was  all  the  better  for 
the  bank  balance;  nor  was  there  a  restaurant,  as  ex- 
pected, but  "  meals  prepared  under  the  personal 
superintendence  of  a  skilled  chef,  and  served  in  the 
residents'  own  suites,"  sounded  even  pleasanter. 
There  were  a  liveried  porter,  and  a  languid  lift.  The 
rent  was  a  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  per  annum; 
the  weekly  charge  for  domestic  service,  a  half-guinea 
per  head;  and  the  cheapest  meal,  a  half-crown  per 
mouth — excepting  a  cup  of  tea,  with  bread-and- 
butter,  in  the  afternoon,  which  was  offered  recklessly 
for  ninepence. 

They  moved  in  towards  the  close  of  September, 
and  their  first  evening  in  the  Mansions  was  less  ro- 
mantic than  their  first  evening  in  the  villa.  It  had 
not  been  thrilling  to  Keith  to  see  her  open  a  ward- 
robe in  a  shop  this  time.  On  the  contrary,  the  whole 
experience  had  been  very  tiring,  and  it  seemed  to 
him  that  his  work  had  been  at  a  standstill  ever 
since  his  marriage.  Nevertheless,  they  were  cheerful 
enough,  though  the  dinner  of  the  "  personal  super- 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  151 

intendence  "  was  tepid,  and  a  fire  would  have  been 
more  exhilarating  than  a  stove  ornament. 

At  nine  o'clock  next  morning  he  strode  out  to  the 
studio  near  the  Foundling,  and  she  was  not  to  ex- 
pect him  back  till  dusk.  Never  had  a  woman  sworn 
more  loyally  to  see  only  the  bright  side  of  things. 
She  played  the  piano  and  chose  her  liveliest  music 
to  help  her  to  feel  that  she  was  in  high  spirits.  She 
gazed  out  of  the  narrow  window,  and  tried  to  be- 
lieve that  the  mean  view  was  interesting.  After  the 
Swiss  youth  brought  in  a  lukewarm  luncheon,  she 
flavoured  it  by  dwelling  on  the  luncheons  in  Sibella 
Road.  When  tedium  drove  her  out  into  a  drizzle, 
she  reminded  herself  that  the  walk  wasn't  aimless, 
because  there  was  a  ton  of  coal  to  be  ordered.  Her 
intentions  were  excellent. 

And  time,  and  acquaintances,  helped  her.  Hither- 
to she  had  met  but  few  of  her  husband's  friends,  and 
seen  nothing  of  the  women  who,  he  had  once  told 
her,  arrived  with  their  babies  and  put  them  to  sleep 
on  the  host's  bed.  Now  the  social  circle  began  to 
widen.  There  were  painters — a  good  many  painters 
— and  an  author  or  two,  and  an  actor  and  his  wife. 
On  the  whole,  an  interesting  set,  as  their  different 
languages  became  intelligible  to  her.  In  October  the 
actor's  wife  was  jubilant  because  "  Peter  " — whose 
Christian  name  on  the  programmes  was  "  Pelham  " 


152  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

— had  been  engaged  to  support  Cornelia  Warwick  in 
Fedora.  And  in  November  she  was  angry  with  him 
because  he  had  been  dismissed.  She  explained  the 
incident  one  evening  at  a  gathering  in  Chelsea. 

"  He  used  to  dig  his  knuckles  into  her  skinny  chest 
and  batter  her  on  the  sofa  till  she  came  off  cry- 
ing every  night.  She  showed  him  her  bruises,  and 
begged  him  to  take  care.  '  Realistic  scene,'  he  said; 
*  can't  spoil  it!'  The  woman  was  black  and  blue — 
she  gave  him  his  notice." 

"  How  unintelligent  of  her!  "  murmured  Tracey 
Wynne.  "  More  earnestness  is  what  we  need  in  our 
actors.  On  the  stage,  artistic  ideals " 

"  Artistic  ideals  anywhere  are  like  measles — if  you 
don't  get  them  over  while  you're  young,  you're  likely 
to  find  them  serious,"  interrupted  a  journalist.  "  The 
road  to  Rowton  House  is  paved  with  artistic  ideals." 

"  I  don't  want  to  turn  your  head,  but  sometimes 
I  read  you,"  said  Keith;  "  and  you  wrote  lately  that 
we  had  '  too  many  idealists,  and  too  few  ideals.' ' 

"  My  dear  fellow,  a  journalist's  daily  necessity  for 
making  new  comments  on  old  subjects  forces  many 
a  clever  man  to  write  stupid  things." 

"  Well,  he  ought  to  suffer  for  them,"  said  Wynne. 

"  So  he  does — he  sees  them  quoted  under  '  Watch- 
words of  Wisdom  '  and  shivers  with  shame." 

"  Talking  of  stupidity  and  the  stage,"  remarked 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  153 

Premlow,  "  I  met  an  actress  in  Bond  Street  the  other 
day " 

"  Where's  Bond  Street?  "  asked  Betty.  "  We  are 
humble." 

The  journalist  laughed,  and  Keith  glanced  at  her 
proudly. 

"  Bond  Street,"  said  Wynne,  "  is  where  ambitious 
souls  like  Premlow  promenade,  in  the  hope  of  being 
mentioned  among  '  well-known  people  to  be  seen 
yesterday.'  Go  on  with  the  story,  Premmy — you're 
a  long  while  coming  to  the  point." 

"  Shut  up !  Well,  as  I  was  talking  to  her,  Viscount 
Armoury  passed " 

"  The  aristocracy  do  pet  you,  Premlow! " 

"No,  but  really,  listen  to  this!  I  don't  know  if 
you've  seen  him? — he'd  be  a  first-rate  model  for  a 
groom.  I  said  to  her,  '  He  doesn't  look  much  like  a 
Viscount,  does  he? '  She  affected  a  superior  smile — 
at  my  naivete,  and  drawled,  '  It  depends  what  you 
expect  a  Viscount  to  look  like!'  It's  even  betting 
which  of  us  considers  the  other  the  bigger  fool  now 
— each  of  us  is  going  about  London  thinking  that 
the  other  has  said  the  silliest  thing  on  record." 

Yes,  the  acquaintances  were  helpful  for  a  time,  but 
very  soon  she  was  unwilling  to  visit  or  receive,  and, 
boxed  in  the  three-roomed  flat  during  the  long  days 
while  Keith  was  away,  she  was  very  dull  indeed.  Often 


154  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

he  took  her  to  the  studio,  and  in  a  basket-chair  by 
the  fire  she  was  fascinated  when  effects  on  the  can- 
vas leapt  into  life,  under  apparently  random  dabs.  As 
she  watched  him,  alternately  retreating  and  advanc- 
ing, laying  on  the  pigments  with  an  air  of  absorption 
and  seemingly  erratic  brushes,  she  was  reminded 
once  of  the  picture-bricks  of  her  childhood — a  dab 
could  look  so  meaningless,  and,  with  the  next,  could 
mean  so  much.  Yet  instinct,  rather  than  any  words 
from  him,  told  her  that  his  heart  wasn't  in  this  work, 
and  there  were  half-hours  when  she  led  him  to  talk 
of  "  The  Harbour  of  Souls  " — and,  indeed,  caught 
much  of  his  feeling  for  it.  Love  cannot  make  an 
artist,  but  already  love  had  lifted  this  clever  girl 
above  her  earlier  standpoint  of  mentor.  She  no 
longer  counselled  him  to  be  "smart";  she  had  be- 
gun to  understand  that  he  was  to  be  great.  Sitting 
there  by  the  fire,  as  he  painted  the  kind  of  thing  that 
went  off  best,  she  often  secretly  reproached  herself 
for  their  increased  expenditure. 

For  life  in  Telemachus  Mansions  was  proving  very 
dear.  It  had  transpired  also  that  "  domestic  service  " 
did  not  include  attention  to  "  brass,  silver,  china," 
and  various  other  articles.  In  fact,  the  list  of  things 
that  the  staff  repudiated  had  been  so  long  that,  at 
the  first  glance,  Keith  wondered  what  remained  for 
them  to  clean.  Originally  he  had  arranged  for  a 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  155 

charwoman  to  come  in  once  a  week,  but  the  flat  had 
accumulated  so  much  dirt  under  the  perfunctory 
flickings  of  "  domestic  service,"  that  soon  the  ar- 
rangement was  extended  to  an  hour  every  morning. 
Like  most  charwomen,  she  had  "  known  better 
days,"  and  on  the  mornings  when  Betty  stayed  at 
home,  little  Mrs.  Mills  leant  on  the  broom  conversa- 
tionally, and  narrated  her  misfortunes,  which  had 
been  chiefly  matrimonial  and  partly  fluid. 

She  was  no  saint  in  tatters,  but  she  was  an  old  and 
fairly  honest  drudge,  and,  far  as  she  was  from  guess- 
ing it,  she  imparted  educative  details  which  were 
worth  the  numerous  half-crowns  that  Betty  slipped 
into  the  scarred  hands.  The  disciple  in  the  art  of 
painting  remained  a  laggard  in  the  science  of  econ- 
omy, despite  her  self-reproaches.  Betty  was  always 
making  beautiful  resolutions,  and  always  tipping 
with  two  half-crowns  where  other  people  tipped  with 
twopence.  The  bent  charwoman  revealed  to  the 
daughter  of  the  millionaire  the  world  of  humble 
hopes.  Her  confidences  unroofed  slums,  and  through 
the  rags  of  the  poor,  the  girl  had  glimpses  of  the 
humanity  and  motherhood  beneath. 

Towards  Christmas,  she  heard  from  Mrs.  Waldehast 
that  Howard  had  "  given  everyone  a  scare,  but  was 
convalescent  now."  She  was  shocked  to  read  that  the 
scare  had  been  caused  by  the  rupture  of  a  blood-ves- 


156  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

sel.  However,  there  was  no  reason  to  be  anxious,  she 
was  told:  "  It  was  probably  the  best  thing  that  could 
have  happened,  for  he  had  been  scared  himself,  and 
would  doubtless  live  more  steadily  in  consequence." 

She  wrote  an  urgent  letter  to  him,  and  an  anxious 
one  to  her  father,  by  the  next  mail. 

At  the  narrow  window  she  used  to  sit  thinking  of 
what  was  to  come,  and  watching  the  snow  flutter. 
She  spent  many  hours  thinking.  The  novels  from 
Mudie's  lay  neglected;  under  the  loudening  call  of 
life,  she  cared  less  for  books.  So  the  new  year 
opened,  and  the  months  passed — Keith  painting  un- 
worthy pictures  worthily,  to  buy  peace  for  his  wife; 
and  the  girl  rearing  castles  in  the  air  for  the  wonder- 
child  who  was  to  call  her  "  Mother." 


XII 

THE  wonder-child  lay  forgotten  in  the  fender,  for  the 
mother  claimed  all  thoughts.  Presently  she  whim- 
pered, "  Where's  my  baby  ?  "  and  someone  turned 
from  her  to  pick  it  up.  "  Now  would  you  like  a  little 
son,  or  a  little  daughter?  "  she  was  asked  jocosely. 
And  she  quavered,  "  I  don't  mind,"  for  fear  of  hurt- 
ing the  baby's  feelings.  "  It's  a  boy ! "  they  told 
her;  and  she  was  glad. 

At  last,  when  they  came  to  him,  Keith's  mouth 
would  make  no  sound;  they  replied  to  the  torture  in 
his  eyes.  He  dropped  a  touch  upon  the  living  bundle 
— his  Universe  was  beyond  the  door. 

"  You  mustn't  agitate  her,  remember!  " 

He  was  gulping,  and  shuddering,  but  nodded  sagely. 

His  mind  had  foreseen  her  radiant  with  relief.  Her 
face  lay  on  the  pillow  like  a  tired  flower. 

"Dickie!"  she  bleated. 

In  this  wise,  Richard  the  Second  was  born  to  his 
kingdom  of  the  third  room. 


XIII 

AND  when  she  was  well  and  saw  him  in  it,  her  mother- 
hood protested.  She  had  hoped  for  it  to  look  pretty, 
and  she  found  it  piteous.  Her  extravagance  had  run 
riot  in  the  paraphernalia  of  infancy;  but  the  nurse's 
box  encroached  on  the  doorway,  her  garments  bulged 
from  the  walls — the  child  was  cradled  in  a  cloak-room ! 

Betty  recalled  her  own  nurseries,  and  resented  her 
babe's. 

"  Don't  you  think  we  might  have  some  of  those  things 
put  away,  nurse?  "  she  inquired  once.  The  nurse  was 
an  efficient  and  dignified  person,  whose  wages  were 
thirty  pounds  a  year,  and  Betty  inquired  respectfully. 

"  Well,  ma'am,  I'm  sure  I've  done  my  best.  The 
chest  of  drawers  won't  hold  everything,  and  there 
isn't  a  wardrobe." 

And  there  was  no  space  for  a  wardrobe. 

"  I  know;  of  course  a  flat  is  very  inconvenient." 

"  I  suppose  you'll  be  moving  before  long,  ma'am?  " 
It  was  less  a  question  than  a  mandate.  "  It'd  never 
do  to  keep  the  poor  little  mite  'ere  for  good." 

158 


THE   HOUSE    OF   LYNCH  159 

"  You  think  it  wouldn't?  "  murmured  Betty. 

"  Well,  you  see  what  it  is  for  yourself,  ma'am — 
there's  nowhere  to  put  a  thing  down.  What  he'd  do 
when  he  began  to  crawl,  I'm  sure  I  don't  know!  I 
haven't  liked  to  speak,  but,  as  I  said  when  I  came, 
I've  always  been  used  to  my  two  nurseries  and  an  un- 
der-nurse.  If  I'd  known  what  a  muddle  it  was  to  be, 
I  don't  think  I  should  'ave  cared  to  take  the  place." 

For  an  indignant  moment  Betty  burned  to  tell  her 
that  she  needn't  stay  in  it.  But  Baby  was  so  safe 
with  her!  Had  not  the  omniscient  "Monthly"  her- 
self pronounced  her  competent?  What  would  befall 
him  if  she  left? 

"  We  must  try  to  make  the  best  of  it  for  a  little 
while,"  she  answered  meekly. 

There  were  many  opportunities  for  her  meekness. 
The  "  domestic  service "  of  Telemachus  Mansions 
appeared  incapable  of  rising  to  a  nurse's  presence, 
and  certainly  it  did  not  rise  to  her  bell.  She  who 
had  been  used  to  an  under-nurse  to  do  her  bidding 
remained  with  her  august  thumb  on  the  button  un- 
heeded. The  father,  being  away  all  day,  escaped 
most  of  her  grievances,  though  he  heard  enough  to 
exasperate  him,  but  the  mother  had  to  listen  to  them 
all.  There  are  no  ranker  snobs  than  servants;  and 
the  superior  references  to  "  Clarence  Gate,  where, 
of  course,  it  was  all  so  different  and  no  expense 


160  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

was    spared!"    were    galling   to    Betty    Keith,    nee 

Lynch. 

So  was  the  woman's  important  demeanour.  As 
she  rose  when  Betty  entered,  her  bearing  intimated 
that  to  enter  was  to  intrude.  "  This  really  isn't  the 
thing!  "  was  stamped  on  her  expression.  The  very 
attitude  in  which  she  waited  implied  forbearance, 
and  in  the  nursery  Betty  was  made  to  feel  less  a 
mother  than  a  visitor. 

There  was  even  an  afternoon  when  she  was 
reproved.  Nurse  remarked  severely,  "  I'm  afraid 
Baby's  not  dressed  as  you  would  have  liked  to  see  'im, 
ma'am.  Everywhere  else  the  lady  has  always  sent  for 
the  baby  to  be  taken  to  the  drawing-room." 

"  Well,  I  don't  come  to  see  his  frocks,"  said  Betty. 

"  No  'm.  Everywhere  else  the  lady  has  knocked 
at  the  door  before  she  came  in." 

"  I  knock  too  in  the  morning  and  at  night — I 
knock  before  I  come  into  your  bedroom.  But  in  the 
daytime  this  is  the  nursery." 

"  I've  always  been  used  to  my  ladies  knocking 
at  the  night-nursery  and  day-nursery  as  well.  In 
Clarence  Gate  it  was  always  done.  Nobody  has  ever 
walked  in  before.  While  we're  on  the  subject,  I  may 
say  I  'ave  never  had  a  lady  want  to  see  the  baby 
quite  so  -often  as  you  do,  ma'am.  As  you  know, 
I  'ave  always  taken  my  babies  from  the  month — I 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  161 

am  a  sole-charge  nurse,  I  know  my  duties,  I'm  used 
to  being  trusted." 

Again,  what  would  befall  him  if  she  left?  The  girl 
drew  a  deep  breath. 

"  It  isn't  that  I  don't  trust  you,  nurse,"  she  said. 
"  I  should  like  you  to  understand  that  I  trust  you 
very  much  or  you  wouldn't  be  here.  But  I  don't 
knock  at  my  nursery  door,  and  I  see  my  child  just 
as  often  as  I  please.  I  am  not  interested  to  hear 
about  the  customs  of  other  mothers." 

She  bent  over  the  cot.  Would  the  "  notice " 
crash  ? 

Nurse  mumbled,  and  moved  to  the  washhand- 
stand.  After  this  there  was  more  tolerance  in  her 
manner,  though  her  dignity  was  still  impressive. 

Meanwhile,  the  man  was  not  without  his  own 
troubles.  In  his  bank-book  the  word  "  Cash "  no 
longer  figured,  and  the  numerous  entries  were  all  on 
the  wrong  side. 

The  theory  has  been  advanced  that  artists  should 
be  poor,  to  yield  the  utmost  from  their  talent.  It  is 
also  recommended  that  geese  be  roasted  alive  to  en- 
large their  livers  for  your  pate.  Keith's  experiences 
did  nothing  to  support  the  amiable  theory.  Pecuniary 
cares  neither  improved  his  quality  nor  accelerated  his 
speed,  though  a  list  of  sending-in  days  was  scrawled 
over  the  mantelpiece  for  a  motto.  Out  of  the  studio 


i6a  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

he  would  tell  himself  that,  to  paint  recklessly,  only 

will  power  was  essential,  and  out  of  the  studio  he 

would  register  oaths  to  do  it;  but  the  following  day 

would  again  see  him  obliterating  the  work  of  the  day 

before — plodding  with  conscientious  and  uninspired 

touches. 

When  he  came  home  disgusted  with  himself  one 
evening  Betty  said — 

"  Dick,  I've  something  to  ask  you:  I  want  you  to 
paint  a  portrait  of  Baby." 

"A  portrait  of  Baby?  Yes,  I've  nothing  else  to 
do!" 

"  It  wouldn't  take  you  long." 

"  I'm  too  hard  pressed  just  now.  Besides,  there's 
nothing  to  paint." 

"  Nothing  to  paint?  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  It's  all  clothes." 

"  I  guess  /  could  find  something  to  paint,"  she 
said  reproachfully.  "  He's  got  the  sweetest  smile  I 
ever  saw,  and  the  way  his  little  hands  droop  is  just 
perfect.  Did  you  ever  see  eyes  like  his  in  a  baby 
before?  " 

"  Oh,  it's  a  dear  little  soul — don't  imagine  I'm 
running  it  down.  I  had  no  idea  I  could  get  so  fond 
of  a  baby;  I  always  thought  a  child  only  began  to 
be  human  when  it  was  two  or  three  years  old.  But 
I  can't  paint  it  yet,  really!  " 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  163 

"  All  right,"  she  returned  crossly.  "  I'll  have  him 
done  at  a  photographer's  instead.  It's  rather  a  funny 
thing,  I  must  say,  when  his  father's  an  artist!  " 

But  in  most  cases  their  views  about  the  younger 
Richard — who  had  been  christened  with  due  pomp 
— were  identical.  Once  when  he  lay  on  her  lap  Keith 
announced  his  intention  of  giving  him  boxing  les- 
sons before  he  was  sent  to  school. 

"  I  shan't  let  him  go  till  he  has  learnt,"  he  said ; 
"  then  I'll  be  sure  he  won't  be  bullied  by  young  ruf- 
fians twice  his  size.  Every  boy  ought  to  be  taught 
before  he's  sent!  " 

"  Were  you?  " 

"  No,  afterwards.  That's  what  makes  me  keen  on 
it;  he  shall  have  the  benefit  of  my  experience.  If  he 
knows  how  to  defend  himself,  there'll  be  no  need  for 
him  to  do  it  more  than  once." 

"  I  wouldn't  like  him  taught  by  a  stranger,  though," 
she  said;  "  a  boxing-master  would  be  too  rough." 

"  As  a  matter  of  fact,  they  aren't  rough — the  best 
men." 

"  Well,  but  for  such  a  little  chap " 

"  Oh,  of  course,  I  shall  teach  him  myself;  I'd  like 
to!  I'll  get  him  a  little  pair  of  gloves,  and  a  little  suit 
of  flannels "  , 

"  Oh,  won't  he  look  a  chuck  in  flannels !  "  cried 
Betty. 


164  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

"And  take  him  for  half  an  hour  every  morning! 
There's  no  occasion  for  him  to  learn  a  great  deal, 
either;  a  good  lead-off  and  a  quick  guard  are  about 
all  he  wants  to  hold  his  own." 

At  this  point  the  future  pugilist  whined  for  his 
"  soother,"  and  Betty,  popping  the  india-rubber  into 
his  mouth,  cooed  to  him  the  strange  language  in 
which  she  had  become  so  suddenly  proficient. 

"  I  wonder  if  it  understands  anything  of  what 
you  mean? "  said  Keith,  regarding  them  thought- 
fully. 

"Mmps!"  affirmed  Betty.  "Of  course  he  under- 
stands. Did  his  father  ask  such  things  about  him, 
then,  a  blessing?  And  his  liddley  teggies  hurting 
all-a-time!  There-then-there!  Did-ums-was? "  She 
swayed  gently,  with  her  baby  on  her  bosom.  "  Cud- 
dley  up,  and  coosha-bye!" 

The  balance  at  the  bank  continued  to  dwindle,  and, 
with  it,  Keith's  store  of  cheerfulness.  In  Kensington 
Gardens  the  perambulators  were  fewer  now;  already 
many  children  of  more  prosperous  fathers  had  been 
taken  to  the  sea.  The  desirability  of  the  third  room  was 
not  increased  by  the  summer  heat,  and  there  was  an 
evening  when  Betty  referred  to  their  own  departure. 

"  When  do  you  think  we  might  take  Baby  away?  " 
she  inquired.  "  It's  not  doing  him  any  good  to  be 
in  London  this  weather." 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  165 

Keith  knocked  out  the  ashes  from  his  pipe  before 
he  answered. 

"  I'm  afraid  we  shall  have  to  wait  a  bit,"  he  said. 

The  average  woman  might  have  asked  "  Why?  " 
Betty's  apprehension  was  too  quick  for  that,  but  the 
average  woman  would  have  been  much  less  shocked. 
Mercilessly  as  the  sense  of  poverty  had  pricked  since 
the  child's  birth,  this  was  its  first  thrust.  The  faint- 
ness  of  horror  was  on  her  as  she  sat  realising  that 
they  were  too  hard  up  to  afford  a  change  of  air. 

"  I  didn't  know,"  she  stammered.  "  Yes,  of  course, 
we  can  go  later  on." 

"  I'm  awfully  sorry ;  we  shall  be  out  of  the  corner 
soon.  I  shouldn't  have  mentioned  it  if  you  hadn't 
spoken  of  the  seaside.  It's  only  temporary." 

"  How  poor  are  we?  " 

"  Oh,  there's  nothing  for  you  to  look  so  anxious 
about!  I'm  bound  to  sell  something  directly.  As 
soon  as  I  get  a  cheque,  you  can  go." 

"  Won't  you  go  too?  " 

"  I  don't  know  about  that;  I  can't  spare  the  time." 

"  Well,  but — I  hadn't  any  idea,  I  don't  understand. 
What  has  happened,  what's  the  reason  of  it  all?  " 

"  The  reason  ?  The  reason  is  I'm  not  making 
enough  money." 

"  But Have  we  been  spending  too  much?  " 

Keith  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  I  suppose  that's 


i66  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

what  it  amounts  to.  It's  not  your  fault;  things  have 
got  to  be  paid  for;  but  everything  here  costs  three 
times  what  it's  worth.  Even  when  one  sells  a  picture 
one  doesn't  see  anything  out  of  it." 

He  refilled  the  pipe,  and  for  nearly  a  minute  there 
was  no  sound  but  the  rumble  on  the  road.  At  last 
she  said  drearily,  "  There  doesn't  seem  much  to  look 
forward  to!  " 

"  Oh,  I  daresay  it'll  be  all  right !  "  he  sighed. 

But  she  had  uttered  his  own  opinion.  For  a  long 
while  he  had  felt  that  there  wasn't  much  to  look  for- 
ward to.  Unless  they  got  rid  of  the  flat,  and  led  the 
life  primitive  in  Cornwall — which  was  out  of  the 
question  for  her — the  best  that  he  could  expect  was 
to  potboil  adequately.  Time  for  good  work  there 
would  never  be! 

The  temperature  of  the  third  room  grew  more  op- 
pressive, and  in  Kensington  Gardens  the  children 
played  with  spades  and  pails — souvenirs  of  the  sands. 
As  she  took  her  daily  walk  under  the  dusty  trees,  Betty 
noted  them,  but  she  spoke  no  more  of  leaving  town. 

From  New  York  came  the  tidings  that  Howard  had 
been  induced  to  submit  himself  to  a  sanatorium  in 
Colorado.  She  heard  that  he  had  really  begun  to  take 
an  interest  in  his  condition,  so  the  news  must  not  be 
considered  bad.  On  the  contrary,  the  physicians  all 
said  that  six  months  of  the  air,  diet,  and  early  hours 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  167 

would  effect  a  cure.  The  letter  was  nevertheless 
startling,  for  it  implied  that  his  present  condition  was 
much  less  satisfactory  than  she  had  understood. 

In  the  heat,  nurse's  grievances  against  the  staff 
developed,  and  at  last  it  was  necessary  to  call  Keith's 
attention  to  the  matter  again. 

"  Oh,  send  her  away!  "  he  cried,  for  he  was  tired 
of  remonstrating  downstairs.  "  There  are  plenty  of 
other  nurses  to  be  got!  " 

"  Not  such  good  ones,  though,"  objected  Betty. 
"  Besides,  it's  no  fault  of  hers,  you  know  that !  " 

"  Well,  my  dear,  I  can't  go  down  to  the  kitchen  to 
cook  her  dinner,  and  I  can't  stay  at  home  to  run  to 
her  bell.  I  don't  understand  why  she  needs  to  keep 
ringing  it;  it's  she  who's  engaged  to  look  after  the 
baby — the  waiters  aren't !  " 

"Oh,  don't  talk  foolishness!"  exclaimed  Betty 
angrily.  "  I've  been  there  myself  when  she  has  rung 
for  the  bath,  and  nobody  has  come  for  half  an  hour. 
She's  obliged  to  ring  for  something  or  other  twenty 
times  a  day." 

"It's  not  surprising  they're  sick  of  coming  up,  then! 
We  don't  monopolise  the  staff — we've  only  one  flat!  " 

"'Flat'!" 

"What?" 

"  Oh!  "  The  gesture  with  which  she  turned  from 
him  was  intolerant. 


i68  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

"  So  the  flat  isn't  good  enough?  Is  that  what  it 
means?  " 

"  Have  I  ever  said  so?  " 

"  It  sounded  like  it  just  now."  His  voice  quivered 
under  the  restraint  that  he  was  putting  on  it. 

"And  if  it  did?  That  wouldn't  be  surprising 
either!  Don't  make  any  mistake,  Dick — I  don't 
shut  my  eyes  because  I  hold  my  tongue!  If  you 
were  in  that  cupboard  that's  called  a  '  nursery '  a 
little  oftener,  you'd  know  what  it  was  like  to  live 
in  it." 

"  If  I'm  not  there  oftener,  it's  because  I'm  work- 
ing to  pay  the  rent!"  He  walked  up  and  down, 
trembling.  "  This  is  all  that  woman!  "  he  broke  out 
vehemently.  "  I  wish  we  had  never  seen  her!  I  won't 
have  her  here — she  shan't  stop!  " 

"  Oh  yes,  she  shall,"  said  Betty.  "  Baby  can't  do 
without  her." 

"  I  say  she  shan't!  She's  a  firebrand,  she's  a  curse. 
I've  heard  nothing  but  her  complaints  from  the  day 
she  came." 

"  You  have  heard?  You  haven't  heard  half." 

"  I  never  come  back  to  the  place  without  hearing 
that  nurse  wants  something  altered,  or  something 
dear,  or  something  impossible.  As  I  cross  the 
threshold,  it's  my  greeting." 

"  That's  a  wicked  lie." 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  169 

"  I  breathe  complaints!  I  get  up  to  them,  and  take 
them  to  the  studio  with  me,  and  come  home  to 
more.  My  head  swirls  with  complaints.  I've  myself 
to  consider  too;  I've  my  work  to  think  about.  The 
situation's  not  luxurious  enough  for  her?  Very  well, 
then,  she  can  leave  it!  Are  we  to  be  brought  to  ruin 
because  nurse  gets  her  dinner  late?  To-morrow  she 
can  dine  when  she  likes — it  won't  be  here.  I'm  going 
to  tell  her  so  now! " 

"You  won't!"  declared  Betty.  "Don't  do  it,  be- 
cause you'll  have  to  take  it  back!  I  won't  have  her 
dismissed — I  refuse  to  put  Baby  in  the  hands  of  a 
stranger!  It's  bad  enough  for  him  as  it  is,  Heaven 
knows,  without  risking  his  life." 

"  Risking  his  life !  Don't  you  suppose  I  love  the 
baby  as  much  as  you  do? — he  means  a  great  deal 
more  to  me  than  you  know!  .  .  .  I'm  sorry  for  what 
I  said  just  now — that  was  an  exaggeration." 

"Exaggeration!  Exaggeration  is  a  very  delicate 
name  for  it." 

"  Well,  you  were  less  delicate  yourself." 

"  I  said  just  the  truth — I  have  kept  a  hundred 
worries  from  you;  there  have  been  a  hundred  worries 
for  me  that  you  have  never  dreamt  of.  And  to  tell 
me  that  I  have  greeted  you  with  complaints  every 
evening  is  an  infamous  thing!  " 

"  I've  told  you  I'm  sorry.  Besides,  I  didn't  say 


i7o  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

they  were  your  own  complaints.  I  know  very  well, 
if  you're  being  badgered  to  death,  you've  got  to 
speak  of  it  to  me.  Of  course  you  have!  I  hope  you 
always  will — I  don't  want  you  to  keep  it  to  yourself, 
and  feel  that  you've  nobody  to  talk  to.  I  only  say 
that  it  gets  in  the  way  of  the  work.  I  can't  paint 
when  my  brain's  full  of  bells,  and  baths,  and  nurses. 
I  don't  see  why  either  of  us  should  go  on  being 
bothered  by  her.  I  don't  see  any  reason  for  us  to  put 
up  with  it." 

"  Baby's  the  reason.  Think  how  difficult  it  was 
to  get  anyone  we  could  feel  confidence  in,  think  of 
the  objects  that  came — creatures  with  stutters  and 
squints.  To  be  with  a  baby — he'd  have  grown  up  a 
Freak!" 

"  I  suppose  they  weren't  all  physically  afflicted?  " 

"  They  were  all  hopeless — all  that  /  saw.  If  they 
had  their  faculties,  they  hadn't  any  '  characters ' 
worth  mentioning.  I  could  have  gone  down  on 
my  knees  with  gratitude  when  we  got  this  wo- 
man. I'd  put  up  with  anything  rather  than  lose 
her!" 

"  Oh,  well,  keep  her,  by  all  means!  I'll  see  what 
can  be  done.  It  doesn't  seem  as  if  bullying  them  will 
do  any  good.  I  had  better  try  more  tips." 

"  She  comes  expensive,  I  know,"  said  Betty  pacif- 
ically. 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  171 

"  Oh,  I  daresay  another  three  or  four  bob  a  week 

will  settle  it !  "  he  returned.  And  their  difference  was 

mutually  ignored. 

But  hitherto,  after  a  difference,  they  had  always 

"  made  it  up  "  frankly,  and  kissed. 


XIV 

HE  received  a  cheque  soon  afterwards — for  a  small 
work  that  had  been  exhibited  at  the  New  Gallery — 
but  the  price  was  only  forty  guineas,  and  the  bank- 
book told  such  a  sensational  story  that  the  visit  to 
the  sea  was  none  the  nearer.  At  last  he  was  painting 
with  slovenly  speed,  painting  with  his  teeth  clenched, 
and  Vivard,  Kluht,  Ellsworthy,  and  the  rest  of  them, 
saw  him  often  during  the  weeks  that  followed.  Betty's 
hundred  a  year  was  no  appreciable  aid  to  his  income. 
He  had  to  be  ready  for  two  rentals,  accounts  for 
catering,  charges  for  attendance,  and  the  date  of  the 
nurse's  wages,  to  say  nothing  of  incidental  expenses. 
The  liabilities  fell  dizzy ingly,  and  as  he  ran  about 
London,  trying  to  save  the  situation,  he  felt  like  the 
juggler  with  the  plates.  But  he  got  no  applause. 

His  position  in  the  market  began  to  waver.  The 
dealers  were  no  longer  so  certain  that  he  was  a  good 
investment.  The  depression  might  be  temporary, 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  he  might  go  the  way  that 
many  another  artist  had  gone  after  marriage.  For 

172 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  173 

the  present,  however,  they  were  not  unwilling  to  in- 
vest— at  prices;  if  he  justified  their  earlier  expecta- 
tions, the  time  was  very  favourable  for  acquiring 
"  Keiths  " — the  work  that  they  bought  to-day  for  a 
song  might  be  sold  a  few  years  hence  for  large  fig- 
ures. On  the  whole,  they  were  pleased  to  see  him 
when  he  called,  though,  detecting  his  necessities,  they 
were  much  less  gracious  in  their  greeting.  He 
waited  now  at  Vivard's  before  Vivard  condescended 
to  recognise  that  he  had  come  in. 

Mrs.  Waldehast  had  missed  the  season  here,  but 
written  that  she  and  her  husband  would  be  in  Europe 
in  the  Fall.  They  meant  to  spend  a  fortnight  of 
their  time  in  London,  and  they  were  coming  to  see 
Betty  directly  they  arrived. 

Betty  awaited  them  with  mingled  feelings:  she 
would  be  very  glad  to  meet  Dardy  again,  but  she 
wished  that  the  meeting  weren't  to  take  place  in 
Telemachus  Mansions.  Though  she  had  winced  at 
the  thought  of  welcoming  her  to  Sibella  Road,  the 
little  house  had  looked  much  better  than  the  diminu- 
tive flat.  She  hoped  that  the  invitation  to  dinner 
would  be  declined,  and  as  she  arranged  flowers  on 
the  afternoon  that  the  visit  was  expected,  she  was 
painfully  conscious  that  one  couldn't  furnish  a  draw- 
ing-room with  chrysanthemums. 

Mrs.  Waldehast  came  alone,  in  a  motor  carriage 


174  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

and  a  costume  that  made  Betty  feel  very  cheap.  It 
was  explained  that  "  Hal  had  been  detained  in  the 
hotel  at  the  last  moment."  They  hugged  each  other 
and  chattered,  and  Dardy  restrained  her  glances  with 
commendable  tact. 

"  It's  just  lovely  to  see  you  again!  "  she  exclaimed. 
"  How  are  you?  Hal  was  dying  to  come  with  me, 
but  a  man  he  was  to  meet  on  business  to-morrow 
'phoned  to  say  he  was  bound  to  go  to  Paris  to-night; 
so  Hal  had  to  stay  behind  to  meet  him  now.  How's 
the  baby?  I  suppose  it's  the  only  baby  on  this  side? 
Give  me  another  kiss,  and  tell  me  all  about  him. 
Where's  your  husband  ?  " 

"  Dick's  very  well;  he's  in  his  old  studio,  you  know 
— he'll  be  back  before  you  go.  How  did  you  leave 
everybody  at  home?  How's  Howard  getting  on?  I 
never  have  a  letter  from  him." 

"  Oh,  I  hear  Howard's  going  ahead,  putting  on 
weight.  He  finds  the  place  very  dull,  of  course,  but 
that  was  just  what  he  wanted  to  set  him  right;  he 
wanted  strapping  down,  and  nursing  up.  The  regi- 
men does  wonders  in  these  cases.  A  friend  of  Hal's 
last  year  was  much  worse  than  Howard;  and  they 
sent  him  to  a  sanatorium  for  six  months,  and  he 
came  out  strong  enough  to  strangle  lions  before 
breakfast.  Your  father  seems  in  low  spirits." 

"About  Howard?" 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  175 

"  I  suppose  that  has  something  to  do  with  it,  but  I 
think  it's  more  you  than  Howard ;  he  told  me  he  was 
glad  when  I  went  round — he  '  could  hear  if  you  were 
alive  ' !  You  don't  write  to  him  very  often,  do  you  ?  " 

"  What  am  I  to  write  about  ?  " 

Dardy  Waldehast  checked  a  sigh,  and  stroked  her 
muff. 

"Are  you  going  to  sit  in  those  things  for  ever?" 
said  Betty.  "  There  was  a  time  when  you  didn't  wait 
to  be  asked!  Won't  you  stay  and  dine  with  us?  Per- 
haps Hal  will  come  too?  You  might  telephone  and 
find  out." 

"  I  can't  stay  this  evening ;  we've  some  people  com- 
ing in.  Besides,  it's  just  on  the  cards  that  Hal  might 
take  a  notion  to  run  over  to  Paris  with  this  man — 
it's  a  big  thing  they've  got  on." 

"  Well,  you  won't  go,  will  you — you  aren't  going 
to  rush  away  from  London  the  moment  you  arrive? 
Don't  be  hateful,  Dardy.  I  haven't  seen  you  for  a 
hundred  years." 

"  My  dearest  girl,  I  hope  to  see  you  every  day  for 
two  weeks.  I  thought  we'd  have  a  day  together  to- 
morrow. Can't  you  come  up  to  me  in  the  morning? 
Or  why  not  come  back  with  me  this  afternoon — you 
dine  with  us  instead.  What  time  does  your  husband 
come  in  ?  " 

"  He'll  be  in  in  about  an  hour.  But  we  won't  dine 


176  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

with  you — I'll  come  in  to-morrow  some  time.  Where 

are  you  staying  ?  " 

"  The  Ritz." 

"Where's  that?" 

"  Why,  in  Piccadilly !  It's  the  new  hotel,  just 
open.  You  don't  mean  to  say  you  haven't  heard  of 
it?" 

"  I — I  was  thinking  of  Paris  for  the  moment,"  said 
Betty.  But  Telemachus  Mansions  were  a  long  way 
from  the  Ritz — in  another  world — and  she  had  not 
read  of  its  opening.  "  Wait  a  minute;  I  want  to  show 
you  Baby!" 

Curled  ready  for  her  to  fetch'him,his  frills  protected 
by  a  capacious  "  over-all,"  he  was  finishing  his  bottle. 
When  she  instructed  nurse  to  come  and  take  him  away 
in  ten  minutes,  she  blushed  for  herself — she  had  lived 
to  be  proud  of  exhibiting  a  trained  servant ! 

It  had  been  an  anxious  question,  whether  he  would 
be  at  his  best  this  afternoon.  For  once  he  showed  off 
when  he  was  wanted  to!  And  at  the  expiration  of  the 
ten  minutes,  nurse's  entrance,  in  her  immaculate  white, 
was  very  satisfactory.  The  cakes  for  tea,  too,  were 
the  daintiest  obtainable  in  High  Street,  and  there 
were  green  sandwiches  from  downstairs,  which  would 
be  charged  for  in  the  bill  at  fourpence  a  bite.  For  a 
delusive  instant  Betty  fancied  that  perhaps  her  home 
didn't  strike  Dardy  as  so  dreadful  after  all.  For  an 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  177 

instant  only.  In  the  next,  she  felt  more  abject  for 
the  thought. 

The  tea  lasted  until  Keith  returned,  and  as  he  didn't 
enter  the  passage  discreetly,  Dardy  said,  "  Here  he  is, 
isn't  he  ?  "  so  he  was  compelled  to  show  himself  before 
he  could  change  his  clothes.  He  was  shabby  and  tired 
when  he  greeted  her ;  it  occurred  to  Betty  for  the  first 
time,  while  she  watched  him  with  veiled  nervousness, 
that  he  had  acquired  the  air  of  a  failure. 

The  conversation  became  forced  and  insincere.  The 
lady  could  ask  no  intimate  questions  about  his  affairs, 
and  the  man  could  ask  no  social  questions  about  New 
York.  It  was  a  relief  to  everyone  when  the  visit  ended. 
Betty  would  go  to  the  hotel  next  day;  Keith's  work, 
alas!  prevented  him  accompanying  her.  A  final  spurt 
of  false  gaiety,  parting  kisses,  and  a  trying  wait  on 
the  landing  for  the  leisurely  lift.  The  upstanding  bow 
in  the  lady's  hat  sunk  from  view — and  Betty  went 
into  her  bedroom  and  groaned. 

Of  course  on  the  morrow  it  was  less  awkward.  The 
best  affection  is  susceptible  to  environment.  The  dis- 
cussion of  the  "  big  thing  "  had  taken  Waldehast  to 
Paris,  as  foreseen,  and  in  the  pale  pink-and-white 
room  overlooking  Piccadilly  the  two  women  were 
alone.  Just  at  first  there  was  some  embarrassment 
when  Dardy  said — 

"  I'm  so  mad  we  couldn't  get  a  parlour  on  the  Park 


178  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

side!  Still,  it's  only  for  two  weeks,  so  it  doesn't  mat- 
ter so  much;  we  can  put  up  with  this!  " 

To  Betty's  senses,  soothed  by  the  restful  aspect  of 
the  room,  "  putting  up  with  it  "  sounded  a  little  arro- 
gant. The  hostess  recognised  her  blunder,  and  her 
words  fell  fast  to  cover  it. 

It  was  not  eighteen  months  ago  that  they  had  talked 
together  of  the  engagement  with  the  utmost  freedom, 
but  the  time  and  the  marriage  had  interposed  a  bar- 
rier, and  not  immediately  was  it  broken.  A  sentence, 
a  word,  something  undesigned,  and  then  the  delicate 
ground  was  reached.  Betty  had  said,  "  Of  course  that's 
between  ourselves !  "  The  rest  was  easy. 

Mrs.  Waldehast  had  come  back  from  Kensington 
dismayed.  With  the  best  intentions,  she  implored  her 
not  to  go  on  humouring  her  husband's  folly. 

"  It's  as  much  for  his  sake  as  for  yours  that  I'm 
speaking,"  she  said;  and  though  they  both  knew  that 
it  wasn't,  the  phrase  enabled  her  to  continue.  "  Re- 
member you've  got  a  child  to  consider — it's  all  very 
rough  on  the  child !  " 

"  Oh,"  sighed  Betty,  "  I  don't  forget  that !  I  never 
dreamed  I  could  be  such  a  devoted  mother,  Dardy.  I 
just  worship  my  baby.  I  could  eat  him  up  sometimes !  " 
She  added  dutifully,  "  Of  course  I'm  very  fond  of 
Richard  too." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Mrs.  Waldehast. 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  179 

"  But  I  did  promise,  you  know." 

"Rubbish!" 

"  I  was  old  enough  to  know  what  I  was  doing." 

"  You  were,  both  of  you,  old  enough  to  know  better. 
But  it's  never  too  late  to  mend.  You've  given  it  a  very 
fair  trial,  I'm  sure,  and  it  hasn't  worked.  You  can't 
pretend  that  you're  content — you  can't  pretend  that 
he's  content.  He's  looking  ten  years  older." 

"How  do /look?" 

"  You'd  look  all  right  if  you  had  a  good  time 
again,"  replied  Mrs.  Waldehast  hesitatingly. 

Betty's  eyes  dilated :  "  I  didn't  know  I  had  changed 
so  much  as  that!  "  she  said.  "  Of  course  I  know  what 
my  frock  is." 

One  night  she  slept  there.  London  was  deluged  un- 
der a  thunderstorm,  and  after  contriving  to  telephone 
to  Keith  and  hear  that  Baby  was  safe  and  sound,  she 
had  consented  to  remain.  It  was  delightful  to  be  min- 
istered to,  to  feel  her  hair  brushed  by  Dardy's  maid, 
and  to  lie  in  luxurious  contemplation  when  the  maid 
had  gone — Betty  didn't  switch  off  the  light  for  a  long 
while  after  she  was  in  bed.  It  was  delightful,  in  the 
morning,  to  step  through  her  doorway  into  a  white, 
spacious  bathroom,  and  when  she  returned,  to  be  met 
by  a  maid  once  more.  She  went  home  early,  fearful 
lest  the  baby  had  suffered  a  catastrophe  in  her  absence ; 
and  the  miniature  flat  in  Telemachus  Mansions  was 


180  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

fetid  to  her  as  she  entered.  Though  Mrs.  Waldehast 
stayed  in  London  for  a  fortnight  only,  the  fortnight 
was  influential. 

So  far,  Keith  had  managed  either  to  pay  the  bills 
or  to  conceal  from  his  wife  that  he  had  not  paid  them. 
Now  there  came  a  demand  from  downstairs  which  he 
could  hope  to  conceal  for  no  more  than  twenty-four 
hours.  It  blackened  the  breakfast-table.  He  slipped  the 
note  into  his  pocket,  and  she  had  no  suspicion  of  his 
burden  as  he  went  out ;  but  he  went  out  weighted  with 
the  knowledge  that  he  must  find  thirty  pounds,  and 
that  there  were  occasions  when  thirty  pounds  were  as 
difficult  to  find  as  thirty  thousand. 

The  picture  that  he  had  to  sell  was  not  everybody's 
money.  He  was  conscious  of  it  when  he  started.  He 
was  more  conscious  of  it  still  when  he  dropped  down 
the  Haymarket  at  noon.  It  was  Wednesday,  and  play- 
goers were  already  beginning  to  assemble  at  the  pit  and 
gallery  doors.  As  he  tramped  from  refusal  to  refusal, 
the  luckless  canvas  grew  as  heavy  as  his  spirit,  as 
heavy  as  his  feet.  If  he  failed,  only  two  courses  were 
open  to  him :  one  was  to  shock  Betty  by  saying  that 
they  must  pawn  her  engagement  ring ;  the  other  was  to 
humiliate  himself  to  Sir  Percival  and  beg  for  a  loan. 
Of  the  two,  the  less  execrable  was  to  face  the  knight, 
but  he  shrank  from  contemplating  either. 

At  four  o'clock  he  was  back  in  Pall  Mall.  He  stood 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  181 

among  the  sauntering  clubmen  and  the  carriages,  the 
canvas  still  under  his  arm.  As  a  last  hope,  the  Six 
Bells!  Many  a  picture  had  changed  hands  there  for  a 
much  larger  sum  than  he  was  asking.  The  hostel  was 
distant,  but  he  would  have  travelled  farther  for  a 
chance  to-day.  A  horse-bus  rumbled  with  him  into 
Chelsea  at  last. 

His  arrival  was  ill-timed.  Of  the  men  who  painted 
and  the  men  who  bought  none  was  to  be  seen.  The 
billiard-room  showed  only  strangers,  the  bowling- 
green  was  as  fruitless  as  the  transplanted  mulberry 
tree.  Upstairs,  he  heard,  there  was  no  one  but  a  pil- 
grim, who  had  entered  to  walk  in  Whistler's  footsteps 
and  contemplate  Carlyle's  chair.  "  There  have  been 
plenty  of  the  people  in,"  said  the  proprietor  sympa- 
thetically, "  but  they've  all  gone  now." 

It  must  be  the  loan,  then!  From  Chelsea  to  the 
City.  He  kept  glancing  at  his  watch,  fearful  lest  he 
did  not  reach  the  office  before  his  uncle  left. 

He  was  just  too  late — the  application  must  be  made 
,  at  the  house !  This  was  even  more  abhorrent,  but  any- 
thing was  preferable  to  Betty's  alarm. 

From  the  city  to  Chapham  Park.  On  the  journey, 
he  tried  to  fan  faith  by  remembering  that  the  applica- 
tion would  be  his  first,  and  that  his  indigence  was  but 
temporary. 

Never  till  now  had  there  seemed  to  be  so  many 


i82  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

stations  on  the  route,  and  never  before  had  King's 
Avenue  seemed  quite  so  long.  There  was  small-talk 
to  be  endured  before  he  could  seize  an  opportunity. 
"  Would  his  uncle  lend  him  thirty  pounds  ?  His  need 
was  very  pressing,  and  the  sum  should  be  repaid  in  a 
month  or  two." 

The  knight  refused  with  such  blandness  that  his  re- 
fusal appeared  to  ask  for  gratitude.  "  The  calls  upon 
him  lately  had  been  so  numerous  that  they  prevented 
his  acceding,  but  affection  urged  him  to  point  a  moral : 
Richard  should  apply  to  his  father-in-law.  Rightly 
regarded,  his  embarrassment  was  a  blessing  in  dis- 
guise, for  it  indicated  the  path  of  duty.  To  advance 
the  money  would,  indeed,  be  a  false  kindness  to  him. 
However!  ...  He  would  stay  to  dinner?  Well,  at 
least,  he  would  have  a  glass  of  sherry  ?  " 

Keith  declined  both  invitations,  and  King's  Avenue 
was  no  shorter  as  he  tramped  back.  He  reached  the 
flat  very  late,  and  Betty  had  already  dined. 

"  I've  been  wondering  where  you  were,"  she  said. 
"  What  have  you  been  doing  ?  " 

"  I  had  to  go  out  to  Clapham  Park.  How's  the 
baby?" 

"  Baby's  all  right.  What  did  you  have  to  go  to 
Clapham  Park  for?" 

"  There  was  something  I  wanted  to  see  Sir  Percival 
about." 


THE   HOUSE    OF   LYNCH  183 

"  I  wish  I  had  known  you  were  going ;  I  waited  for 
you  nearly  an  hour." 

"  I'm  sorry;  I  didn't  know,  myself,"  said  Keith. 
She  asked  no  further  questions,  and  he  rang  the  bell, 
and  had  a  stubborn  drumstick  of  a  fowl  and  a  strong 
whisky-and-soda.  Half  an  hour  passed  before  he  ex- 
plained matters. 

"  Oh,"  he  began,  "  there's  a  bill  owing  here  for 
rather  a  lot;  I'm  short  of  about  thirty  pounds.  It  has 
got  to  be  paid  to-morrow.  It's  an  awful  nuisance,  but 
if  you  can  spare  your  ring  for  a  month  or  so,  it'll  get 
us  out  of  the  hole.  It's  the  only  plan  I  can  think  of,  or 
you  may  be  sure  I  shouldn't  suggest  it." 

"  Why,  yes,"  said  Betty  faintly,  "  of  course !  " 
"  It's  an  awful  nuisance,"  he  repeated.  "  The  gal- 
lant knight  wasn't  any  use;  I  might  have  known  he 
wouldn't  be ! " 

"  Is  that  what  you  went  to  Clapham  about  ?  " 
"  Yes;  I  thought  it  was  just  worth  trying." 
"  Hadn't  you  thought  of  the  ring  then  ?  " 
"I  had  thought  of  it,  but  the  idea  didn't  attract  me." 
"  Surely  it  was  better  to  take  the  ring  than  go 
humbling  yourself  to  relations  ?  "  she  said. 

"I  don't  know,"  sighed  Keith;  "it  was  your  en- 
gagement ring — engagement  rings  seem  sacred.  Be- 
sides, I  didn't  want  you  to  know  we  were  so  hard  up. 
You're  a  trump  to  put  such  a  good  face  on  it,  but  of 


184  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

course  I  understand.  We  shall  worry  through  all 
right,  little  woman — don't  picture  us  singing  in  the 
streets !  " 

She  replied  with  the  ghost  of  a  smile,  and  for  some 
seconds  he  smoked  in  silence. 

"Suppose,"  she  said  feebly,  "we  don't  worry 
through  all  right?  What  then?  " 

"  '  Sufficient  for  the  day '!  " 

"  This  won't  do  much  good.  How  long  will  it  be 
before  the  next  bill  comes  up  ?  " 

"  Well,  they  come  up  every  week,  don't  they?  But 
we  can  let  them  run  for  a  bit  again;  I  don't  suppose 
we're  the  only  people  in  the  place  who  don't  pay  regu- 
larly. The  rent  is  the  chief  bother.  If  that  old  hum- 
bug  But  what's  the  good  of  talking !  " 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"  Say  ?  He  said  there  were  '  many  calls  upon  him  ' 
— the  house  won't  see  any  more  from  me!  It  was  a 
'blessing  in  disguise'  to  be  dunned,  according  to  him." 

"How?" 

"  Oh,  of  course,  he  advised  me  to  turn  to  your 
father.  He  knew  I  shouldn't,  but  it  was  a  good  way 
out." 

"  His  behaviour  to  you  would  be  very  different  if 
you  ever  did,"  she  said  tentatively ;  "  eh  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  it  would,"  said  Keith. 

"  It'd  be  '  my  dear  nephew,  Lynch's  son-in-law  ' !  " 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  185 

"  I  daresay."  His  tone  dismissed  the  subject. 

There  was  another  pause — and  her  voice  was  ab- 
rupt :  "  Do  you  ever  think  of  it,  Dick  ?  " 

"  Do  I  ever  think  of  it?  "  He  turned  white.  "  Good 
heavens,  haven't  we  done  with  that  ? "  She  didn't 
answer.  "  Fow're  not  thinking  of  it,  are  you?"  he 
faltered. 

"  It's  getting  worse  and  worse  with  us,  that's  all. 
There  are  the  dollars,  if  you  like  to  take  them.  It'd 
make  my  father  very  happy,  and — and  everybody 
else." 

"You?" 

"  Yes,  me  too,"  she  owned.  "  It's  no  use  our  fool- 
ing ourselves — it  can't  go  on  much  longer." 

"What  can't?" 

"  This  life  we're  leading.  We've  given  it  a  very 
fair  trial — you  don't  say  it's  a  success,  do  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Keith,  staring  at  her ;  "  no,  it's  not  a 
success.  I'm  obliged  to  pawn  your  engagement  ring, 
so  you  ask  me  to  sell  my  conscience." 

"  Oh,  the  ring,"  she  burst  out  passionately,  "  the 
ring  is  only  one  thing  more!  It's  petty  and  mean  of 
you  to  pretend  that  you  think  it's  because  of  the 
ring!  It  was  bound  to  come,  anyhow,  sooner  or 
later." 

"  It's  as  well  that  it's  sooner,  then,"  he  said 
sternly. 


i86  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

"  So  /  think !  I'm  sorry  it  wasn't  sooner  still.  I'm 
sorry  I  submitted  so  long.  He's  my  father,  and  your 
attitude  is  an  insult  to  him !  " 

"Let's  be  truthful,"  said  Keith.  "  Your  affection 
for  your  father  isn't  very  great;  you're  not  complain- 
ing of  any  insult  to  your  father — you're  complaining 
of  your  own  hardships." 

"  Yes,  I'm  complaining  of  my  own  hardships,  and 
my  child's!  I  don't  choose  to  have  him  brought  up  in 
beggary." 

"  And  7  don't  choose  to  have  him  brought  up  in 
dishonour.  Oh,  don't  let's  have  another  row!  Every 
artist  has  his  ups  and  downs;  if  you're  patient,  we 
shall  be  all  right  yet.  There  was  no  mistake  about 
it  before  we  married;  you  knew  what  it  meant — 
and  you  told  me  I  was  justified.  Don't  eat  your 
own  words;  don't  ask  me  to  eat  mine."  His  tone 
softened.  "  Won't  you  be  brave,  kiddy,  and  see  it 
out?" 

"  You  don't  understand,"  she  sobbed.  "  I  want  to 
be  good,  I  do  want  to  be  good,  but  it's  so  hard.  You 
don't  know  what  it  is  to  me  here — the  awfulness  of  it. 
I  know  what  I  said,  and  I've  tried.  I  have  tried !  But 
I  can't  bear  it  any  longer,  I  can't ! " 

Keith  sat  down  helplessly.  "  Yes,  I  understand.  I 
don't  reproach  you — I  was  cruel  to  reproach  you.  I 
suppose  it's  natural  that  you  can't  bear  it." 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  187 

"  I've  done  my  best.  No  girl  ever  meant  better  than 
I  did.  But  it  has  gone  on  so  long." 

"  Did  you  expect  me  to  make  a  fortune  in  a  year 
and  a  half?" 

"  No,  but Oh,  I  don't  know!  " 

"Tell  me,"  he  urged. 

"  I  don't  know.  I  suppose  I  thought  it  would  end 
the  other  way." 

"  I  made  my  refusal  very  clear,  didn't  I  ?  " 
"  I  didn't  know  you'd  refuse  for  ever." 
Keith   raised  his  head.   "  You  hoped  to   talk  me 
round  ?  "  he  asked  hoarsely. 

"  I — I  thought  you  might  change  your  mind." 
"  Oh !  "  He  sprang  to  his  feet.  "  Talk  straight !  You 
married,  meaning  to  persuade  me?  When  you  said 
that  you  felt  I  was  right,  that  you'd  give  the  money 
up,  that  you  were  ready  to  face  life  with  me,  it  was 
all  a  trick?" 

"  No,  it  was  real,  I  meant  it !  It  was  afterwards  I 
thought  you  might  give  in — only  afterwards !  " 

He  groaned.  "  What  does  it  matter  ?  You  agreed 
to  marry  me,  and  you  wish  you  hadn't — that's  what 
it  amounts  to!  I'm  not  blaming  you — of  course 
it  was  preposterous,  everyone  said  it  was  preposterous. 
I  was  the  only  fool  who  believed  in  it !  .  .  .  So  you've 
been  miserable  all  the  time?  Well,  what's  to  be 
done?" 


188  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

"  If  you'd  only  let  me  write  to  him,  we  might  be 
as  happy  as  we  were  at  the  beginning.  You  know 
we've  been  drifting  apart.  All  our  troubles,  our  quar- 
rels, have  come  from  our  poverty — it  isn't  you  and 
I  that  have  changed  to  each  other,  really;  it's  the 
squalor  that's  crushing  our  love.  I  do  want  to  be 
good,  I  swear  I  do;  but  my  sacrifice  isn't  helping 
anybody,  nobody  is  any  better  off  for  it.  If  I  knew 
that  thousands  of  people  in  the  world,  or  even  a  few, 
were  happier  for  what  I'm  suffering,  it'd  be  easier 
to  bear,  I'd  see  something  in  return.  But  I  can't 
suffer  for  a  theory;  it  isn't  fair  to  ask  it  of 
me!" 

"  Well,  what's  to  be  done?  "  he  said  again.  "  What 
you  propose  is  impossible." 

"  You  won't  let  him  help  us  ?  " 

"  No.  I  don't  want  to  be  harsh, — I'm  too  sorry 
for  you,  I  feel  too  guilty  for  having  married  you, — 
but  you  and  I  can't  live  on  the  money,  Betty.  Put 
that  thought  aside  at  last,  for  the  thing  will  never 
happen." 

"  I  won't  go  on  as  we  are !  "  she  cried ;  "  I  won't  go 
through  any  more  scenes  like  this.  It  has  got  to  be 
altered  now — somehow !  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  '  somehow  '  ?  "  he  ques- 
tioned slowly.  "  Do  you  mean  you  want  to  leave 
me?" 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  189 

"  You  will  make  me  do  it.  I  have  told  you  just 
how  I  feel,  I  have  told  you  that  I  can't  endure  any 
more.  You  must  choose  •  between  your  pride  and 
me." 

"  And,  after  all  that  has  been  said,  from  first  to 
last,  do  you  really  imagine  we  should  be  any  happier 
together  on  his  money?  You  must  know  as  well  as 
I  do  that  it  would  only  make  the  breach  between  us 
wider." 

"  Well! "  The  shrug  was  reckless. 

"  Well,  you  must  do  as  you  please !  "  said  he. 

"  You  choose  your  pride  ?  " 

"  Oh,  we  won't  haggle  about  words,"  he  said 
wearily ;  "  call  it  '  pride '  if  you  like !  I've  done  all  I 
could  to  make  you  happy,  God  knows!  But  I  did  you 
a  wrong  in  marrying  you.  I  understand.  I  understand 
your  point  of  view  much  better  than  you  understand 
mine.  If  you  want  to  go,  you  must  go.  But  what  about 
the  baby?" 

"  Baby  ?  "  Her  gesture  proclaimed. 

"No,"  said  Keith;  "you  mustn't  do  that!" 

"What?  Do  you  think  I'd  leave  him?"  she 
gasped. 

"  He's  my  child  too — you've  no  right  to  take  away 
my  child." 

"  I'm  his  mother ;  I'm  thinking  of  him  as  much  as 
of  myself,  and  more.  Is  it  likely  I'd  go  without  him? 


190  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

For  me  to  live  in  luxury,  and  leave  my  baby  here? 
You  must  be  crazed.  I  wouldn't  do  it  for  anything  in 
the  world !  " 

"  Well,  you  see  7'm  fond  of  him,  and  /  don't  mean 
to  part  with  him  either.  That  I'm  too  hard  up  to 
content  my  wife  is  no  reason  why  I  should  lose  my 
son." 

"  It's  a  queer  kind  of  love  you  have  for  him,"  she 
retorted.  "  You  don't  mind  risking  his  health  in  there, 
you  don't  mind  ruining  his  future!  He  might  be 
brought  up  like  a  prince — and  you  '  love  '  him  so  much 
that  you're  spoiling  his  poor  little  life  for  the  sake 
of  your  fads !  " 

"  I  don't  think  he  will  ever  tell  me  I've  spoilt  it," 
said  Keith  shakily.  "  With  my  consent,  he  shall  never 
owe  a  single  advantage  to  the  millions,  as  a  child  or 
as  a  man.  And  when  he's  old  enough  to  judge,  I  hope 
he'll  thank  me  for  having  kept  his  life  clean." 

"  You  hope  he  won't  be  like  his  mother,  don't  you  ? 
I  hate  you!  I  can't  drag  him  from  you,  so  I'll  have 
to  stay,  but  I  hate  you !  If  I  have  to  starve  with  him, 
I'll  stay.  He's  mine!" 

"Good-night,"  said  Keith.  "I  shall  sleep  at  the 
studio." 

He  went  to  the  bedroom,  and  threw  some  things  into 
a  bag.  When  he  was  on  the  stairs,  he  remembered  the 
ring,  and  hesitated.  But  no,  he  could  send  for  it  in 


"Here's  the  ring,"  she  muttered,  as  he  lagged  back 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  191 

the  morning!  Almost  at  the  same  moment,  he  heard 
her  calling. 

"  Here's  the  ring,"  she  muttered,  as  he  lagged  back. 
She  dropped  it  in  his  hand,  and  he  was  forced  to 
pocket  it — and  he  felt  as  if  he  had  been  whipped  across 
the  face. 


XV 

THE  last  time  he  had  wakened  in  this  room  was  on  his 
wedding  day.  This  morning  he  woke  to  the  knowledge 
that  his  wife  remained  with  him  because  she  would 
not  leave  her  child.  He  himself  counted  for  nothing 
in  her  life;  she  had  proposed  to  desert  him,  only  the 
child  prevented  her!  What  did  the  future  promise? 

He  slunk  to  the  private  office  of  a  pawnbroker's  as 
soon  as  the  shops  opened,  and  was  dismayed  by  the 
latest  example  of  the  difference  between  the  purchas- 
ing price  and  the  pledging  value;  he  was  offered  no 
more  than  twenty-five  pounds. 

"  Twenty-five  is  no  good,"  he  said;  "  lend  me  the 
rest  on  my  watch,  then!  " 

The  elegant  assistant  retired  again,  and  Keith 
sketched  a  profile  absently  on  the  blotting-pad  till  he 
came  back. 

"  Three  pounds  ten,"  he  announced,  "  is  the  best 
we  can  do." 

"  I  always  did  get  a  fiver,"  said  the  artist  reminis- 
cently. 

192 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  193 

"  Watches,"  explained  the  assistant,  "  have  '  come 
down  '  so!  " 

"  Well,  I'll  put  the  chain  in  too,"  said  Keith,  and 
the  young  man  quitted  the  room  once  more. 

He  was  still  unsatisfactory  on  his  return. 

"  Twenty-five  shillings,"  he  said. 

"  How  much  is  that  altogether?  " 

A  rapid  pen  showed  the  total  to  be  £29,  155. 

Keith  felt  in  all  his  pockets,  and  brought  forth  a 
gold  pencil-case,  given  to  him  by  Betty,  and  a  silver 
match-box.  "  I'll  have  a  match  out,  I  want  to  light 
a  cigarette,"  he  said.  "  Will  you  see  if  I  can  have 
the  other  five  bob  on  those?  " 

At  last  the  total  was  correct,  and  he  took  a  cheque 
to  Telemachus  Mansions  within  an  hour.  But  he  did 
not  go  up  to  the  flat.  He  went  away,  questioning 
what  he  was  to  do  for  money  pending  the  sale  of 
work.  He  had  to  pay  in  the  thirty  pounds  at  the 
bank  before  the  cheque — an  open  one — was  pre- 
sented, and  suddenly  he  wondered  if  he  was  the  sort 
of  client  who  was  allowed  to  overdraw  his  account. 
The  manager's  comments  on  the  weather  had  always 
been  genial  across  the  counter;  he  had  even  offered 
criticisms  of  the  Academy,  mistaken,  but  well-meant. 
Wild  though  the  attempt  might  be,  it  would  cost 
nothing! 

Mr.  Adams  was  engaged  at  present,  and  confi- 


194  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

dence  shrank  under  delay.  It  was  also  embarrassing 
to  the  novice  to  feel  that  his  business  was  divined  by 
the  clerk  behind  the  grating.  Presently  the  brass 
door-knob  turned,  and  the  manager's  white  head 
bowed  a  lady  out.  "  I'm  very  sorry,"  he  was  mur- 
muring. It  sounded  ominous. 

Keith  shook  hands  with  him,  and  sat  down  in  the 
chair  that  the  lady  had  vacated. 

"  I  want  to  know  if  I  may  overdraw,"  he  blurted. 

The  manager  smiled.  Hope  leapt  high. 

"  Oh,  I  daresay,"  he  said.  "  I  suppose  you'll  soon 
be  doing  something  with  a  picture,  Mr.  Keith?  " 

"  I  may  sell  something  any  day." 

"  Oh  yes,  I  daresay  we  can  manage  that  for  you. 
Up  to  what  amount  do  you " 

"  About  fifty."  His  heart  stood  still. 

Mr.  Adams  showed  no  disapproval.  "  Excuse  me 
just  for  a  moment,"  he  said. 

This  was  too  sunny  to  last — he  would  come  back 
to  say  he  couldn't  do  it!  Well,  keep  repeating  that  it 
would  have  cost  nothing! 

"  That  will  be  all  right,  Mr.  Keith,"  said  the  man- 
ager musically. 

"  If  you've  been  looking  at  my  account,  I  may  tell 
you  I've  just  given  a  cheque  that'll  wipe  it  clean 
out." 

Mr.  Adams'  nods  were  assuring. 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  195 

"I'm  tremendously  obliged!"  exclaimed  Keith, 
taking  up  his  hat. 

"  I'm  glad  we  can  convenience  you.  I  only  wish 
everybody  would  cut  it  just  as  short.  I  always  know 
what  they're  going  to  say,  but  most  people  make  me 
wait  such  a  long  time  before  they  come  to  the  point." 

It  was  amazing,  but  it  had  happened.  A  minute 
later  Keith  trod  the  street  with  his  monetary  care 
banished.  He  wished  fervently  that  this  idea  had 
occurred  to  him  before  he  asked  Betty  for  the  ring. 
His  impulse  was  to  redeem  it  at  once,  but  if  he  did 
so,  he  might  have  to  ask  her  for  it  again.  The  reflec- 
tion determined  him  to  leave  it  where  it  was  till  he 
received  a  substantial  payment.  A  bank  was  certainly 
a  great  institution;  how  much  more  complacent  than 
a  pawnbroker's!  While  there  were  banks,  there 
seemed  no  reason  why  he  should  ever  be  hard  up! 

Yes,  though  the  power  of  fifty  pounds  would  be 
brief,  his  monetary  care  was  banished;  many  an 
affliction  carries  an  advantage,  even  the  artistic  tem- 
perament. But  the  artistic  temperament  could  not 
lighten  the  domestic  trouble.  He  went  home  to  din- 
ner reluctantly.  Would  she  recur  to  the  subject,  or 
were  they  to  dine  in  silence,  or  was  the  occurrence 
to  be  ignored?  He  decided  to  say,  "  Good-evening. 
How's  Baby?  "  and  await  results. 

"Good-evening,"  he  said.  "How's  Baby?" 


196  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

She  had  been  reproaching  herself  for  the  "  I  hate 
you  "  all  day,  and  she  did  her  best  to  answer  as 
usual.  Keith,  in  his  turn,  rejoined  as  cordially  as  in- 
dignation permitted.  In  the  heart  of  each  was  a  hot 
grievance  against  the  other,  and  the  mutual  sham 
was  no  triumph  of  histrionic  art. 

"Anybody  been?  "  he  inquired,  with  an  effort. 

"  Mrs.  Premlow  came  in  this  afternoon,"  she  said. 

"  Oh?  What  has  she  got  to  say?  " 

"  Nothing  particular.  She  says  her  husband  is 
very  pleased  with  some  picture  he's  doing." 

"  I've  seen  it;  the  thing  shrieks,"  said  Keith.  "  Is 
that  all?  Have  you  been  out?  " 

"  I  changed  my  book." 

"  What  did  you  get?  " 

"  I  got  Wynne's  new  one.  It's  very  good  as  far  as 
I've  gone."  She  picked  it  up  and  ruffled  the  pages. 

At  dinner  it  was  no  livelier. 

As  the  hours  ticked  by,  the  tension  increased. 
Both  were  reading,  but  both  questioned  what  was  to 
be  done  when  he  rose  to  leave  again.  The  man  won- 
dered whether  she  would  hint  to  him  that  he  wasn't 
to  go.  The  woman  wondered  whether  he  would  hint 
to  her  that  he  wished  to  stay. 

With  equal  aversion,  they  foresaw  the  awkward- 
ness of  the  climax.  At  a  quarter  to  eleven  Keith  told 
himself  that  he  would  rise  at  eleven  o'clock;  but  when 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  197 

the  signal  struck,  he  still  faltered.  Over  the  top  of  her 
novel,  Betty  was  relieved  to  see  him  fill  another  pipe. 

Now  it  was  a  quarter  past  eleven.  It  was  half-past. 
The  postponement  was  becoming  ridiculous.  He  got 
up  abruptly.  "Well,  good-night!"  he  said,  scarcely 
glancing  at  her. 

"  Good-night,"  she  said,  just  turning  her  head. 

So  the  custom  was  established. 

Neither  regretted  it.  Very  soon  the  "  good-night " 
held  less  awkwardness  than  the  "  good-evening."  He 
never  forgot  that  he  would  not  have  found  her  sit- 
ting there  but  for  the  child  in  the  third  room.  She 
never  forgot  that  her  child  was  condemned  to  the 
third  room  by  her  husband's  obstinacy.  Every  even- 
ing Keith  asked,  "How's  the  baby?  "  and  heard  that 
he  was  well,  and  stole  in  to  view  him  sleeping.  Every 
evening  he  stood  by  the  cot  for  a  minute,  in  the 
nurse's  presence,  like  a  visitor. 

When  a  fortnight  had  passed,  Tie  received  a  differ- 
ent answer  to  his  question.  "  Baby  has  a  cold."  Even 
affection  found  nothing  portentous  in  it.  This  was 
on  Tuesday. 

On  Friday,  when  he  returned,  Betty  met  him  with 
a  blanched  face,  and  the  baby  was  awake. 

"  He  seems  very  feverish  and  restless;  I've  sent 
for  a  doctor! " 

None  but  the  parents  of  an  only  child  know  what 


198  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

terror  can  grip  the  heart  when  "  Baby  seems  very 

feverish."  Suddenly   the   capable   nurse   appeared   a 

pillar  of  strength  to  Keith;  his  eyes  besieged  her  with 

inquiries. 

"  I  don't  think  there's  anything  to  be  upset  about, 
sir,"  she  said.  "  But  Mrs.  Keith  '11  feel  easier  in  her 
mind  when  the  doctor's  been." 

"  What  man  did  you  send  for?  Who  recommended 
him?  Did  you  say  he  was  wanted  at  once?  "  Half 
a  dozen  questions  leapt  from  his  alarm. 

The  doctor  was  long  in  coming,  and  his  uncon- 
cerned demeanour  was  affronting  when  he  came;  to 
him  such  urgent  messages  were  all  in  the  day's  rou- 
tine. A  medical  man  divides  symptoms  into  the  ob- 
jective and  subjective — those  that  he  sees  for  himself, 
and  those  that  his  patients  tell  him.  And  the  latter 
he  subdivides  into  the  Real  and  the  Imaginary. 

But  when  he  made  his  examination  of  the  child's 
chest,  Dr.  Griffiths  was  graver.  The  respiration  was 
hurried,  and  caused  pain;  and  the  temperature  was 
high.  He  admitted  that  the  case  was  critical.  Forced 
to  put  a  name  to  it,  he  spoke  of  pleuro-pneumonia. 

"  I'd  like  you  to  bring  a  physician,"  gasped  Betty, 
as  the  words  left  his  lips. 

He  was  surprised.  His  practice  did  not  lie  among 
people  who  suggested  consultations  so  swiftly.  He 
promised  himself  a  half-guinea  a  visit  instead  of  three 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  199 

and  sixpence.  Inhuman?  No,  human — he  also  had  a 
homeful  of  anxieties. 

"  Sir  Edward  Cooper  is  as  good  a  man  as  you 
could  have,"  he  said. 

Sir  Edward  Cooper  came  on  the  morrow,  and 
Keith  was  there  to  receive  him.  The  distinguished 
person  only  corroborated  the  struggling  man's  opin- 
ion, and  made  a  perfunctory  alteration  in  his  treat- 
ment; but  he  was  cheap  at  the  three  guineas,  for 
both  the  father  and  the  mother  felt  encouraged  when 
he  had  been.  It  is  among  the  general  practitioner's 
pains  and  penalties  to  see  these  things;  a  visit  from 
a  title  always  improves  the  condition  of  the  patient's 
friends. 

But  no  improvement  was  to  be  noted  in  the  baby 
during  the  next  two  days,  though,  at  Betty's  request, 
the  visit  was  repeated.  Keith  left  the  flat  very  late 
now,  and  was  there  again  before  breakfast.  He  spent 
the  days  pacing  the  sitting-room  and  tiptoeing  to 
the  nursery  for  reports.  Betty,  hollow-eyed  for  lack 
of  sleep,  was  no  comrade  in  the  crisis.  The  cold 
from  which  the  illness  had  developed  was  attributed 
to  the  fact  that  it  was  difficult  to  ventilate  the  nur- 
sery without  exposing  the  child  to  a  draught.  The 
thought  seethed  in  her.  If  Baby  were  to  die!  She 
was  sorry  for  Keith's  trouble,  she  spoke  every  word 
that  was  true  to  sustain  his  hope,  but  she  blamed 


200  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

him  furiously.  The  mutual  grief  did  nothing  to  draw 

them  to  each  other's  arms. 

No,  the  husband  and  wife  did  not  kiss  again  with 
tears.  She  who  became  strangely  devoted  was  the 
domineering  nurse.  She  had  a  nature  that  put  forth 
its  flowers  in  shadow.  The  arbitrary  snob,  who 
had  hitherto  found  nothing  good  enough,  was  now 
a  self-abnegating  soul  who  found  nothing  too  bad. 
Untiring,  unselfish,  she  bloomed  with  new  virtues 
hourly.  Finally,  her  tone  was  even  gentle  to  the 
waiters. 

On  the  third  morning,  when  Keith  arrived  he 
heard  in  the  hall  that  Dr.  Griffiths  had  been  sent  for 
in  haste,  and  was  still  upstairs.  The  lift-lad  was 
not  in  attendance  yet;  Keith  reached  the  flat  breath- 
less. 

Betty  and  the  doctor  were  in  the  sitting-roorn. 

"What's  happened?" 

"He's  worse!  Dr.  Griffiths  has  just  seen  him." 

"  The  breathing  is  very  oppressed,"  explained 
the  doctor;  "  I'm  sorry  to  say  there  has  been  further 
effusion  in  the  night." 

"  Effusion?  "  It  conveyed  nothing. 

"  I  was  just  going  to  tell  Mrs.  Keith  that  we 
should  have  to  draw  off  some  of  this  fluid — to  tap 
the  chest,  I  mean.  We  ought  to  have  it  done  as  soon 
as  possible — to-day." 


THE    HOUSE    OF   LYNCH  201 

"An  operation?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Is  it  dangerous?  " 

Dr.  Griffiths  hesitated. 

"  I  should  prefer  it  to  be  done  by  a  specialist,"  he 
parried. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Keith,  "  of  course!  " 

"  I  want  to  understand,  please,"  panted  Betty. 
"  I've  got  to  know  just  what  we're  risking." 

"  It  sometimes  causes  syncope." 

"And?"  She  pressed  hard. 

"  With  a  skilful " 

"And — death?"  she  whispered. 

"  Yes." 

"  Who's  the  best  man?  "  she  wailed.  "  I  want  the 
best!" 

"Wait!"  exclaimed  Keith.  "Before  we  risk  the 
operation,  what's  the  risk  of  not  operating?  " 

"  You'd  be  taking  a  greater  responsibility  still. 
To  be  candid,  I  must  say  that  such  an  operation  is 
unusual,  and  something  of  a  forlorn  hope.  On  the 
other  hand,  you  can  see,  by  his  dusky  colour  and 
dilated  nostrils,  how  desperately  bad  the  poor  little 
thing  is.  If  nothing  is  done,  your  child  hasn't  many 
hours  to  live." 

'  You  won't  mind  my  saying  that  we  must  have 
that  confirmed  before  we  decide?  I'd  like  a  second 


202  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

opinion,    I'd    like    Cooper    to    see    him   again    this 

morning." 

"  Certainly." 

"  Who's  the  best  man,  doctor?  "  she  moaned.  "  Is 
there  anyone  you  have  absolute  faith  in?  " 

"  The  man  to  get,  of  course,  if  you  can  afford  to 
have  him,  is  Mr.  Wimble,  of  Bart's.  He's  expensive — 
and  there's  the  question  if  he  would  operate  to-day." 

"  The  expense  doesn't  matter,"  she  declared.  Her 
eyes  met  Keith's  and  challenged  him. 

"  What's  his  fee?  "  he  asked  hoarsely. 

"  Wimble  never  operates  under  a  hundred  guineas." 

Would  the  bank  grant  another  overdraft? 

"  I'll  telephone  to  Cooper  now,"  he  stammered. 
His  face  was  ashen.  "  I'll  see  if  he  can  come  at  once." 

Sir  Edward  undertook  to  be  with  them  at  half- 
past  ten,  and  Dr.  Griffiths  arranged  to  return.  Keith 
followed  Betty  to  the  nursery.  Beside  the  cot  the 
nurse  was  crying — he  was  sensible  of  the  wonder 
of  it,  even  in  the  desperation  of  his  strait.  As  he 
watched  the  little  life  labouring  for  breath,  as  he 
suffered  with  it,  as  he  prayed  God  for  it  to  be  spared, 
he  still  heard  the  menace  of  his  wife's  words:  "The 
expense  doesn't  matter!" 

The  bank  had  scarcely  opened  when  he  was  with 
the  manager  again.  This  time  there  was  no  amaze- 
ment, the  answer  was  but  what  he  had  expected  even 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  203 

while  he  pleaded.  Mr.  Adams  was  regretful — the  ac- 
count did  not  justify  consent. 

One  hope  remained — Cooper  might  avert  the 
operation. 

Griffiths'  brougham  drew  up  at  the  Mansions 
punctually.  The  physician's  motor  car  heralded  his 
advent  soon  afterwards. 

"  The  expense  doesn't  matter! "  Still  Keith  heard 
it,  as  he  waited  for  the  pronouncement.  It  "  didn't 
matter  "  ?  No,  not  to  her — to  her  there  would  be 
no  bitterness,  no  shame.  But  to  him!  His  resolve  to 
be  cast  aside,  his  vaunt  of  three  weeks  since  annulled 
in  degradation — his  son  to  be  saved  by  Lynch's 
aid? 

The  men  came  back. 

"  Operate!  It'll  ward  off  immediate  danger.  Wim- 
ble, by  all  means! " 

A  hundred  guineas,  or  his  child's  life — his  child's 
life,  or  apostasy  to  save  it! 

Apostasy!  And  his  torture  made  no  illusions.  He 
did  not  strive  to  think  that  he  would  yield  because 
the  mother  had  the  right  to  claim  it,  he  did  not 
palter  with  any  subtilties  of  right  and  wrong — his 
breaking  spirit  owned  that  he  would  yield  because 
he  loved  his  boy. 

There  followed  stereotyped  phrases  of  encourage- 
ment, an  assurance  that  the  best  arrangements 


204  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

should  be  made  without  delay.  An  envelope  was 
slipped  into  pearl-grey  gloves.  The  lift  descended. 
The  motor  car  and  brougham  had  gone. 

She  turned  from  the  window  with  a  slip  of  paper 
in  her  hand. 

"  I  suppose  you  know  I'm  going  to  cable  to  my 
father  for  this  money?  "  she  said  in  a  hard  voice. 

"  Yes." 

"  You  can  ask  the  surgeon  to  wait  a  few  hours  for 
his  fee?" 

"  Yes." 

"Here's  what  I've  written." 

He  read,  "  Child  dangerously  ill.  I  want  a  hundred 
guineas  to-day. — BETTY." 

"  Will  you  copy  it  on  a  form  when  you  go  out,  and 
send  it  so  that  he  gets  it  about  eight  o'clock  in  New 
York?  " 

"  Yes." 

He  went  out  and  copied  the  appeal  to  Lynch. 


XVI 

"WELL?" 

"Well,  that's  all  right,  sir!" 

"  Successful? " 

"  Quite." 

"  Thank  God!  "  There  was  something  like  a  sob  in 
his  voice.  "  I'm  immensely  grateful  to  you ! " 

"  The  more  urgent  symptoms  are  much  relieved, 
and  he  may  be  as  well  as  ever  in  a  week  or  two.  Let 
us  hope  so !  Keep  him  quiet.  But  your  excellent  nurse 
knows  just  what's  to  be  done." 

"  Have  something  before  you  go!  Dr.  Griffiths,  a 
whisky-and-soda  ?  "  He  spoke  to  Wimble  apart.  "  I've 
dated  this  cheque  for  the  day  after  to-morrow.  You 
won't  mind  holding  it  over  ?  " 

"  With  pleasure." 

The  tension  was  past.  The  surgeon's  bag  was  no 
longer  an  object  of  terror.  He  and  Griffiths  were  ani- 
mated. Betty  had  shaken  their  hands,  and  was  cry- 
ing with  relief.  Then  they  went,  and  'she  gazed  at 
Keith,  and  froze.  Her  impulse  had  asked  for  him  to 

205 


206  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

clasp  her  in  his  arms,  to  echo  her  joy — and  she  saw 
a  grey-faced  man  bowed  with  humiliation.  She  made 
no  allowances.  The  baby  was  safe,  and  the  father 
could  think  only  of  his  own  defeat!  That  was  how  it 
seemed  to  her,  and  she  felt  him  to  be  egoistic  and  cold. 
Dimly  he  was  conscious  of  his  deficiency  in  her  eyes — 
acutely  he  was  conscious  of  his  solitude — but  he  had 
suffered  too  many  emotions  since  morning  to  be 
able  to  simulate  one  now.  Her  anguish  during  the 
ordeal,  her  prayers,  her  hysterical  thanksgiving,  all 
these  things  he  had  shared.  But  once  more  he  stood 
alone;  there  was  none  to  share  the  burden  of  his  self- 
reproach  :  "  I  couldn't  pay  to  save  my  own  child's 
life!" 

Lynch  cabled  five  hundred  pounds.  The  boy's  con- 
dition improved  daily,  the  nurse  regained  her  dig- 
nified demeanour,  and  by  Dr.  Griffiths'  advice,  Betty 
decided  to  go  with  them  to  Bournemouth  for  a  month. 

Keith  was  staying  at  home.  Poor  effort  at  inde- 
pendence! His  wife  had  written  for  accommodation 
at  the  best  hotel,  she  had  bought  new  clothes  for  the 
baby,  and  ordered  new  costumes  for  herself;  already 
she  had  spoken  of  renting  a  larger  and  expensive  room 
in  the  Mansions  for  a  nursery.  But  he  wasn't  going 
with  her  to  the  seaside! 

How  could  it  end?  He  put  the  question  to  himself 
hourly  after  the  departure  was  made.  Night  after 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  207 

night  he  sat  alone  in  the  flat,  remembering  the  com- 
pact and  viewing  its  collapse.  The  thing  that  he  had 
sworn  should  never  be,  had  come  to  pass — they  were 
being  supported  by  Lynch's  money !  A  debt  that  might 
be  discharged?  To  say  so  would  be  sophistry!  Long 
before  this  sum  could  be  repaid  there  would  be  another 
and  another — and  soon  a  settlement,  offered  and  ac- 
cepted. The  man  looked  the  truth  in  the  eyes.  The 
thing  had  come  to  pass ! 

What  was  his  duty?  To  forbid?  It  would  be  idle. 
Besides,  had  he  the  right  to  forbid,  after  what  had 
happened  ?  Hadn't  he  forfeited  the  right  ?  She,  at  least, 
might  say  so.  To  submit?  That  would  mean  contin- 
uous ignominy,  as  the  price  of  holding  his  wife  and 
child.  And  his  child's  recovery  he  owed,  under  Heaven, 
to  Lynch's  purse,  and  his  wife  had  wished  for  a  sep- 
aration. Now,  of  course,  she  might  be  satisfied  to  re- 
main, but  her  victory  made  her  love  no  deeper. 

Was  it  worth  while  to  sink  to  it  all,  was  it  good 
enough?  He  knew  that  what  he  shrank  from  most 
was,  not  parting  from  the  later  Betty,  but  from  the 
boy;  it  was  the  boy  that  made  a  coward  of  him.  But, 
again,  was  it  good  enough?  Of  the  two  evils,  the 
lesser  might  be  the  wrench.  It  might,  it  would,  be  less 
awful  to  lose  at  once  than  to  lose  by  slow  degrees; 
less  bitter  to  resign  his  claim  than  to  see  his  child 
estranged  with  Lynch's  finery,  bedizened  with  Lynch's 


208  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

trinkets,    fostered,    and   pampered,   and   misled   with 

Lynch's  wealth. 

And  he  himself  would  have  to  share  it!  The  chair 
that  he  sat  on,  and  the  servant  behind  it,  and  the  food 
that  he  swallowed,  would  be  paid  for  by  Lynch.  A 
daily  degradation.  For  what?  He  had  meant  to  keep 
his  son  unsmirched  by  guilty  dollars,  and  he  had 
failed.  Then  let  the  mother  take  him,  as  she  had  asked 
— let  them  go! 

He  did  not  come  to  the  conclusion  in  a  night  or  in 
a  week — or,  more  exactly,  he  came  to  it  every  night, 
and  then  pondered  from  the  starting-point  again.  But 
he  came  to  it  at  last  definitely,  assisted  by  a  letter,  in 
which  Betty  alluded  to  her  return  and  the  necessity  for 
the  new  arrangement. 

"  I  am  coming  down  to  see  you,"  he  wrote,  and  he 
went. 

She  was  out  when  he  arrived,  and  he  waited  for  her 
in  her  sitting-room  on  the  first  floor.  He  noted  the 
extravagance  of  flowers,  and  the  peaches  on  the  side- 
board. Details  as  they  were,  they  hardened  him  in  his 
resolve.  It  hardened  him  in  his  resolve  when  she  en- 
tered, careless  and  fashionable,  a  beauty  without  a 
scruple,  her  conscience  asleep  again. 

"  You  never  told  me  what  train  you  were  coming 
by,  or  I'd  have  been  in,"  she  said.  "  Have  Baby  and 
nurse  come  back  yet  ?  " 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  209 

"  I  haven't  seen  them,"  said  Keith.  "  Is  he  quite 
strong  now  ?  "  » 

"  Oh  yes,  he's  splendid." 

She  unpinned  her  hat,  and  put  it  aside ;  and  hummed 
a  little,  to  disguise  her  nervousness,  as  she  drew  off  her 
gloves.  The  man  turned  to  the  window,  and  stood  star- 
ing at  the  sea  before  he  spoke.  His  opening  sentences 
had  evaporated. 

"Betty!" 

"  Yes  ?  "  She  tried  to  sound  surprised  at  the  tone. 

"  You  remember  what  I  said  before  he  was  ill  ?  " 

"What?" 

"  I  had  to  take  it  back;  his  life  was  at  stake — I  sent 
that  cable  for  you." 

"  You  sent  it  for  yourself  too ;  you  love  him,  don't 
you?" 

"  Yes.  I  sent  it  for  myself  as  much  as  for  you.  But 
I  only  asked  for  the  surgeon's  fee.  That  might  have 
been  a  loan.  Do  you  think  that  my  failure,  my  shame 
— for  I  was  sick  with  shame,  and  you  knew  it — do  you 
think  it  justified  you  in  squandering  whatever  your 
father  was  willing  to  send?  Do  you  think  it  justified 
you  in  living  as  you're  living  now — as  you  talk  of  liv- 
ing when  you  come  back  ?  You  know  perfectly  that  if  I 
took  the  room  you  speak  of,  I  couldn't  pay  for  it. 
You  know  our  expenses  are  too  heavy  already;  how 
do  you  propose  that  we  should  meet  more?  We  must 


210  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

understand  each  other ;  I  want  to  know  if  you're  count- 
ing on  his  help  for  the  future?  " 

"  What  if  I  am  ?  I  should  have  thought  common 
gratitude  would  have  removed  your  prejudice,  after 
what  he  has  done." 

"  I  expected  you  would  say  that,"  he  said.  "  It 
sounds  very  well.  If  you  were  a  fool,  I  might  even 
think  you  were  deceived  by  it.  So  you  are  counting 
on  his  keeping  us  ?  " 

"  Haven't  we  had  a  lesson,  didn't  we  nearly  lose 
Baby?  "  she  exclaimed.  "  If  he  had  had  a  proper  room, 
it'd  never  have  happened !  " 

"Who  says  so?" 

"  Nurse  says  so.  She  knows  what  she's  talking 
about." 

"  And  supposing  you  hadn't  a  rich  father  ?  What 
would  you  do  then?  Yes,  I  do  love  the  child  too,  and 
his  health's  just  as  much  to  me  as  it  is  to  you,  and  I'll 
make  any  change  for  him  that  I  can.  But  it  isn't  for 
the  child's  health  that  you're  spending  twenty  or  thirty 
pounds  a  week  here,  or  wearing  that  frock.  I  say 
we've  got  to  understand  each  other.  I  must  know  what 
you  intend  to  do.  If  you  mean  this  kind  of  thing  to 
go  on,  it  means  the  end  of  our  life  together." 

She  stood  by  the  mantelpiece,  her  head  bent.  "  You 
haven't  made  it  a  very  happy  life  lately,  anyhow,  have 
you?  "  she  muttered. 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  211 

"  I !  If  a  woman  speaks  to  her  husband  as  you  spoke 
to  me,  she  has  either  got  to  tell  him  she's  sorry,  or 
accept  the  situation." 

"  A  woman  doesn't  say  she's  sorry  to  a  block  of 
wood,"  said  Betty,  with  dry  lips. 

"  And  a  man  doesn't  feel  demonstrative  towards  a 
woman  who  only  remains  with  him  because  she  doesn't 
want  to  leave  the  baby.  If  I  had  let  him  go  with  you, 
you  wouldn't  be  here.  Well,  I  take  back  another 
thing:  I  take  back  my  refusal — if  he's  to  be  brought 
up  on  your  father's  money,  it  shall  be  in  New  York!" 

She  faced  him  in  a  flash,  erect  and  white. 

"  You'll  never  say  that  to  me  again !  " 

"  I  ask  you  to  choose." 

"  You've  told  me  I  may  go,  and  to  take  him  with 
me.  Very  well.  I'll  do  it!" 

"  Oh,  play  straight !  "  he  cried.  "  The  decision  rests 
with  you,  not  me — don't  let's  have  any  humbug  about 
it !  If  you  go,  it's  because  I'm  a  poor  man ;  if  you  stay, 
you  must  act  fairly  to  me.  I've  come  down  to  ask  you 
which  it's  to  be." 

"  I  am  going." 

"  All  right.  I  daresay  your  father  will  be  very  glad 
to  have  you  back.  Perhaps  he'll  be  able  to  work  a 
divorce  for  you — I've  no  doubt  he'll  try.  .  .  .  That's 
all,  then?" 

"  That's  all." 


212  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

There  was  a  long  pause.  The  result  was  only  what 
he  had  feared,  but  now  that  it  had  come,  he  found 
himself  unprepared  and  dazed.  His  feeling  was  not 
poignant — he  had  been  much  more  moved  by  many 
a  play ;  the  thing  seemed  unreal — far  more  unreal  than 
a  play;  dimly  he  was  surprised  that  he  didn't  suffer. 
It  was  strange — their  lives  were  dividing,  and  he  felt 
no  pain;  there  was  none  of  the  chokiness,  the  protest 
that  he  had  known  in  anticipation.  He  was  living  the 
scene  apathetically,  as  he  might  have  lived  it  in  a 
dream. 

In  her,  emotions  clashed  and  sobbed — misery,  and 
indignation,  and  self -contempt.  If  he  had  thrown  his 
arms  round  her,  she  knew  that  she  would  have  wept 
her  heart  out  and  promised  all  he  asked — and  simul- 
taneously she  wondered  whether  she  could  have  kept 
her  word. 

"  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir ! "  The  nurse  came 
in,  carrying  the  child.  "  I  didn't  know  you  were  here." 

"Good-afternoon,"  he  said.  "Well,  Baby?"  He 
touched  a  cheek  gently.  "  Are  you  coming  to  me  ?  " 

"  Has  he  had  a  nice  time,  nurse  ?  "  asked  Betty,  her 
face  averted. 

"  Oh  yes,  ma'am.  He  had  a  little  sleep,  too,  while  he 
was  out.  Didn't  he,  a  pet  ?  " 

"  Are  you  coming  to  me  ?  "  repeated  KeitH.  "  Your 
father  has  to  go  to  town  again  at  once." 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  213 

He  held  the  child,  and  kissed  him.  His  son  had 
scrambled  and  leapt  to  reach  his  arms  a  hundred  times, 
and  gurgled  with  satisfaction  when  there;  but  to-day 
there  was  a  wail  to  be  set  free.  Perhaps  the  kiss  had 
been  too  hard.  Trivial  as  it  was,  the  wail  distressed 
the  man.  He  gave  him  back  to  the  nurse,  abashed. 

"  Well,"  he  picked  up  his  hat,  and  glanced  towards 
Betty,  "  if  I  hurry,  I  shall  just  manage  to  catch  that 
train !  "  he  said,  with  laboured  carelessness.  "  Good- 
bye." 

"  Good-bye,"  she  answered. 

In  the  mirror,  she  watched  him  open  the  door.  The 
door  shut. 

"  I  don't  know  why  Baby  should  cry  for  once  when 
his  father  kisses  him !  "  she  gasped  resentfully. 


XVII 

EVERY  day  now,  as  she  watched  the  Channel  curling 
on  the  shore,  she  thought  of  the  Atlantic,  that  was  so 
sadly  wide.  "I  am  going  to  New  York,  on  a  visit  to  my 
father;  I  should  like  you  to  go  with  me,"  she  had  told 
the  nurse;  and  though  nurse  was  frankly  appalled  by 
the  casual  mention  of  such  an  undertaking,  she  had, 
after  consideration,  assented.  And  not  altogether 
ungraciously. 

So  there  was  nothing  to  cause  delay,  nothing  to  pre- 
vent the  passages  being  booked  at  once,  excepting 

What?  Betty  asked  herself  why  she  hesitated,  and 
shirked  the  answer.  From  Keith  she  expected  to  hear 
no  more.  Now,  at  last,  she  realised  fully  that  she  could 
never  compromise  between  him  and  wealth.  And  she 
had  made  her  choice,  and  she  had  been  given  the  boy. 
Then  why  did  she  wait?  She  said  finally  that  she 
waited  because  she  was  a  coward,  too  weak  to  take  a 
decisive  step.  For  shame !  Her  chin  disdained  her  tears. 
Impulse  lost  patience  with  such  folly. 

She  wished  that  Lynch  were  in  Europe.  The  dis- 
order of  the  docks,  the  farewells  among  strangers,  the 

214 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  215 

nurse's  protesting  eyebrows,  all  added  pangs  to  her 
loneliness.  And  there  was  no  exhilaration  in  her  mood 
afterwards,  when  her  nervousness  for  the  boy  was  past, 
and  she  sat  cloaked  in  her  deck-chair,  gazing  at  the 
desolate  sea.  She  thought  of  the  last  time  that  she  had 
been  on  an  Atlantic  boat.  Almost  all  that  mattered  in 
her  life  seemed  to  have  happened  since  then!  Did 
it  seem  ages  back,  that  emotional  trip,  or  not  so  long 
ago  as  it  was?  Both,  alternately.  She  recalled  the  con- 
ferences with  Dardy,  their  scheme  to  get  her  own  way. 
Reviewing  those  days,  the  girl  that  she  had  been 
looked  strange  to  her;  she  had  not  recognised  till  now 
that  she  had  altered  so  much. 

Her  mind  dwelt  on  the  evening  when  she  promised 
to  marry.  Common  sense  would  have  declared  that  it 
must  be  painful  to  think  of  that  now,  but  it  was 
sweet;  she  thought  of  it  more  often  than  of  any  later 
occurrence.  How  pretty  it  had  been!  Dardy  had  once 
said,  "  There's  a  bad  fairy  that  flies  away  with  our 
bridegrooms  while  we're  dreaming  on  the  honeymoon 
— and  when  we  wake,  we  just  find  husbands  in  their 
place."  Yes,  Richard  had  altered  too  since  their  mar- 
riage! If  he  had  remained  the  same Time  was  a 

brutal  thing,  "  a  cynic,"  her  father  had  called  it !  If 
Richard  had  remained  the  same, 'she  could  have  kept 
her  word  to  him — perhaps.  It  wouldn't  have  seemed 
so  hard  if  he  had  remained  her  bridegroom.  Still 


216  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

Oh,  after  all,  she  didn't  know  that  she  blamed  him — 
or  herself.  It  was  the  sin  of  circumstances;  the  cir- 
cumstances had  been  cruel. 

The  voyage  was  long,  though  she  felt  no  impatience 
to  arrive.  Society  worried  her.  The  women  who  talked 
to  her  struck  her  as  vapid,  after  women  who  had 
professions,  or  took  an  interest  in  the  professions  of 
their  husbands.  She  observed  newly  that  the  ordinary 
woman's  interest  in  her  husband's  calling  is  limited  to 
its  financial  results.  She  didn't  want  to  chatter  inani- 
ties, or  to  play  games.  When  the  child  wasn't  with  her, 
she  protected  herself  for  the  most  part  with  a  book,  of 
which  she  read  but  little.  On  the  third  afternoon,  the 
lady-killer  among  the  passengers  attempted  to  storm 
the  fortress — and  for  the  rest  of  the  trip,  he  disap- 
peared into  the  smoking-room  when  she  came  on  deck. 
One  evening  at  dinner  she  asked  the  captain  "  how  far 
they  were  from  home,"  and  she  only  noticed  afterwards 
that  she  had  said  "  home,"  instead  of  "  England." 

She  rose  without  eagerness  on  the  morning  that  they 
were  to  land.  America  was  near;  field  glasses  were 
numerous.  Everybody  else  was  excited.  Americans 
saw  the  dear  ground  of  their  birth,  or  their  adoption, 
again;  foreigners  saw  the  Tom  Tiddler's  ground  of 
their  expectations. 

Lynch  flung  his  arms  about  her  with  a  sob,  and 
hugged  her  before  the  world ;  and  she  drooped  to  him, 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  217 

and  reproached  herself  for  not  being  glad  enough  to 
see  him.  Sayings  that  she  had  paid  small  heed  to 
when  they  were  uttered  had  crowded  back  to  haunt 
her,  and  she  thought  guiltily  of  her  husband's  com- 
ment, "  Your  affection  for  your  father  isn't  very 
great."  He  was  crying,  unashamed,  and  for  the  first 
time  she  knew  it  was  pathetic  that,  worthily  or  un- 
worthily, the  love  of  an  adult  is  given,  and  cannot  be 
earned. 

"  Oh,  honey,  it's  good  to  look  at  you !  "  he  reiter- 
ated. "  Is  that  the  baby  ?  Scott,  how  he's  grown !  How 
are  you,  how  are  you,  my  girl  ?  " 

It  was  queer  to  be  jolted  again  over  the  rough  roads 
of  the  neighbourhood — to  see  its  crude  ugliness  widen 
and  brighten  into  the  New  York  that  was  familiar.  It 
was  queer  to  be  sitting  in  a  carriage  again,  to  mount 
the  steps  of  the  house,  to  breathe  the  warm  air  as  she 
entered.  There  were  flowers,  flowers  everywhere,  to 
greet  her,  masses  of  them,  blooming  in  the  great  hall, 
and  in  the  drawing-room,  and  at  every  turn.  "  You 
could  never  have  enough  of  flowers,"  laughed  the 
old  man ;  "  I  told  them  there  was  to  be  heaps  of 
flowers  to-day — for  you!  And  your  own  nurseries  are 
ready  for  your  boy!  I've  got  some  real  fine  toys  for 
him  there — you'll  see.  I  guess  he's  too  young  to  play 
with  them  yet,  but  it  livened  me  up  to  get  'em,  and 
he'll  grow." 


2i8  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

"You're  good  to  me!"  she  faltered,  moved. 
"  Somebody  had  better  show  nurse  where  the  rooms 
are.  Where  are  you,  nurse?  " 

Nurse  was  hovering  on  the  threshold,  and  she  came 
forward — but  no  longer  recognisable.  Her  dignity  had 
gone.  Awe  transfigured  her.  Her  mouth  was  open, 
her  cheeks  were  bloodless,  her  eyes  started  from  her 
head;  when  she  spoke,  her  voice  was  but  a  reverential 
whisper. 

"  You  had  better  take  Baby  upstairs  now,  nurse — 
they'll  show  you  the  way." 

"  Yes,  madam,"  she  said  huskily. 

Unrecognisable  still,  she  crept  through  the  fantastic 
nurseries  when  Betty  followed  her.  Supported  by 
ivory,  cradled  in  gold,  and  canopied  with  rare  lace, 
the  babe  lay  engrossed  by  his  sixpenny  "  soother  " ; 
and  the  mother,  viewing  him,  wished  that  he  were  old 
enough  to  appreciate.  She  craved  to  hear  her  child 
approve  the  difference;  it  would  have  encouraged  her 
to  witness  his  delight.  Amid  the  pomp,  the  babe  lay 
engrossed  by  his  "  soother  " — just  as  tranquil  he  had 
lain  in  London. 

She  went  down  to  her  own  rooms,  and  the  majesty 
of  them  startled  her  now.  Yet,  like  the  child,  she  was 
failing  to  enjoy.  It  was  exquisite,  it  was  imperial,  but 
it  was  not  "  home."  She  had  contemplated  more 
gaily  the  bedroom  in  the  Kensington  Hotel.  On  the 


"Yes,  madam,"  she  said  huskily 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  219 

table  was  the  toilet-service  that  she  had  left  behind, 
and  as  she  gazed  at  it  her  bosom  heaved,  her  eyes 
grew  wide.  She  sat  down,  and  rested  her  brow  on  her 
hands. 

By  and  by  Mrs.  Waldehast  ran  in  to  welcome  her, 
and  her  spirits  rose;  but  Dardy  could  not  stay  to 
dinner,  and  the  evening  was  passed  alone  with  Lynch. 
While  he  exulted  over  her  return,  Betty  was  thinking 
how  perfect  it  would  be  if  Keith  too  were  present,  and 
they  were  all  three  happy  together. 

"  It's  like  old  times  to  see  you  there,"  Lynch 
kept  saying,  "  like  old  times ! "  He  rubbed  his 
harsh,  yellow  hands  together,  rejoicing.  "  You  won't 
want  to  talk  much  about  it  yet  ? "  he  asked 
wistfully. 

"  Tell  me  more  about  Howard,"  she  said.  "  How 
long  is  he  going  to  stay  there?  I'd  like  to  go  to  see 
him." 

"  He  was  writing  about  coming  back  a  while  ago ; 
they  were  very  pleased  with  his  progress.  But  he's 
been  worse  again  since  then — more  haemorrhage.  I'm 
afraid  for  Howard ;  it  don't  seem  to  be  doing  him  the 
good  that  was  expected.  I  guess  he'll  never  be  alto- 
gether right  again." 

"  Do  you  mean  he'll  always  be  an  invalid  ?  "  she 
asked,  dismayed. 

"  I'm  afraid,"  he  repeated,  with  slow  nods,  "  I  begin 


220  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

to  think  we  were  too  late  finding  out  he  was  sick.  .  .  . 
It's  made  me  look  back,  you  know,  his  being  like  this ! 
He  hasn't  been  much  of  a  son,  late  years,  but  I  used 
to  have  lots  of  hopes  when  he  was  younger.  It's  made 
me  look  back!  That's  one  reason  why  I'm  so  glad  to 
have  your  boy." 

"  You've  been  dull,  all  alone,"  she  said  pityingly. 

"  Yes,  it's  been  lonesome.  This  house  ain't  much 
good  to  me,  you  know — two  rooms  are  about  all  7 
want  now.  But  I  guess  I'll  buck  up  now  you're  back! 
I'm  going  to  give  you  a  dandy  time,  make  you  forget 
your  troubles." 

She  sighed. 

"  How  did  you  come  to  quit,  Betty?  " 

"  It  was  the  same  thing.  I  had  asked  him  before — 
and  he  wouldn't !  " 

"  Didn't  mind  your  going?  " 

"  He  said  himself  it  must  be  one  thing  or  the 
other." 

"  The  child's  illness  didn't  bring  him  down  ?  " 

"  He  consented  to  the  cable.  Of  course  he  wouldn't 
if  he  could  have  helped  it." 

"  It  scared  me  some  when  I  got  it.  You  were 
broken  up,  eh  ?  " 

"  It  was  awful !  .  .  .  You  see,  he  said  the  hundred 
guineas  we  asked  for  might  have  been  a  loan — he  said 
I  had  no  right  to  have  taken  more.  It  was  a  blessing 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  221 

you  were  here.  I  don't  know  what  we'd  have  done 
if  you  had  been  away." 

"  I  had  fixed  that ;  whenever  you  cabled  for  dollars, 
you'd  have  got  'em,  if  I  was  in  New  York  or  not." 
He  groaned.  "  What  a  pity,  poppet,  what  a  pity ! 
Still,  we'll  ease  it  up ;  I'll  fix  that  for  you  too." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  What  do  I  mean !  I  mean  I'll  make  you  a  free 
woman.  You  don't  suppose  I'm  going  to  see  your 
whole  life  ruined  by  that  dog?  You  shall  divorce 
him." 

She  shivered. 

"He  said  you'd  try!" 

"  Is  that  so  ?  Well,  I  guess  his  judgment  was  right 
for  once.  I'll  do  more  than  '  try ' !  I'll  have  a  chat 
with  Dorfman  to-morrow." 

"  I  don't  think  I  want  you  to  go  to  a  lawyer  yet." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  He  peered  at  her  shrewdly,  alarmed. 

She  didn't  speak. 

"  Why  not?  "  he  said  again.  "  Don't  tell  me  you're 
weak  about  him  still?  You'll  never  be  so  crazy  as 
that?" 

"  Isn't  it  all  over  between  us  ?  "  she  said  in  a  low 
voice. 

"  I  want  to  see  a  divorce.  It  was  '  all  over '  once 
before.  Tisn't  two  years  ago  you  told  me  here  you'd 
never  speak  to  him  again  as  long  as  you  lived — and 


222  THE   HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

the  next  I  heard  about  it  was  that  you  were  going  to 
be  married.  See  here,  if  I  work  it  for  you,  there'll 
be  no  such  great  harm  done  after  all.  You've  had 
two  rough  years,  but  you  ean  cut  your  losses — you 
can  marry  an  English  aristocrat  all  the  same.  The  boy 
won't  get  the  title,  but  he'll  have  plenty  of  dollars 
— 7'11  see  to  that — and  you'll  be  just  as  fond  of  the 
heir." 

"Don't,"  she  begged,  "don't!  I  can't  bear  it." 
"  What's  wrong  ?  He'll  be  your  son  as  well,  won't 
he  ?  And  by  a  better  man !  You  can  love  two  children, 
can't  you  ?  " 

"  I  should  never  marry,  whatever  happened." 
"  You  have  heaps  of  time  to  change  your  views. 
You'll  meet  a  man  that's  good  enough  one  day." 

"  I'd  never  give  my  child  a  stepfather  in  any  case. 
And  I  should  never  want  to." 

"  When  you  like  the  man,  you'll  think  different.  It 
doesn't  pay  to  make  too  many  sacrifices  for  your  chil- 
dren; they  grow  up,  and  you're  liable  to  get  left. 
When  your  boy  was  old  enough  to  quit  you  for  some 
girl,  and  you  were  too  old  to  get  the  man  back,  I 
guess  you'd  say  you  had  done  a  poor  deal.  One 
of  these  days  you're  going  to  be  keen  on  marrying, 
and  I  mayn't  be  here  to  hustle  for  you  then.  Get  your 
divorce  while  I'm  with  you  to  engineer  the  evidence. 
Anyhow,  you're  better  off  free." 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  223 

But  the  subject  was  abhorrent  to  her,  and  though 
he  harped  on  it  all  the  evening,  and  recurred  to  it 
many  times  during  the  next  few  days,  she  would  not 
agree  to  his  going  to  his  solicitor. 

He,  on  his  side,  would  not  agree  to  her  leaving 
him  to  travel  to  Howard  so  soon,  and  the  days  glit- 
tered with  new  colour.  If  she  had  found  no  excite- 
ment in  the  dazzling  change,  she  would  have  been 
more  than  human;  she  would  have  been  more  than 
human  if  there  had  not  been  hours  in  which  she 
laughed,  and  thrust  remembrance  from  her  when  it 
clawed.  Lynch  had  opened  an  account  for  her  at  his 
bank,  and  once  more  her  means  were  unlimited;  once 
more  she  ordered  lavish  entertainments,  and  went  to 
others.  Ostensibly  she  was  staying  with  her  father 
for  two  or  three  months,  and  the  circumstances  of 
her  marriage  had  been  sufficiently  sensational  for 
acquaintances  to  spare  her  tactless  questions.  Her 
New  York  was  curious,  but  discreet. 

Soon  it  was  only  to  Dardy  that  she  spoke  of 
Keith,  and  she  did  not  speak  very  often  of  him  to 
her.  In  their  first  long  talk,  Dardy  had  also  coun- 
selled her  to  divorce  him,  and  it  had  been  difficult  to 
explain  why  she  shuddered  at  the  idea. 

Why  was  it  that  she  shuddered?  Well,  it  would 
mean  perjuring  herself.  Though  she  had  been  reared 
in  a  "  world  "  where  no  one  was  expected  to  utter  the 


224  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

truth  when  it  was  against  his  interests,  the  last  two 
years  had  shown  her  that  there  was  another  "  world," 
where  people  esteemed  'cuteness  less  and  honour 
more.  That  was  one  reason.  Also,  she  knew  instinct- 
ively that  she  would  feel  worse  afterwards  than  she 
did  now,  more  contemptuous  of  herself — more  blank. 

Oh,  but  she  didn't  want  to  think  about  it !  She  would 
have  the  carriage  round  and  go  and  scatter  some  more 
dollars.  She'd  make  up  a  luncheon  party  for  Sherry's, 
and  go  to  see  a  musical  comedy  in  the  evening,  and  have 
a  good  time  afterwards  at  the  Zeislers'  ball.  .  .  .  Only, 
one  couldn't  have  a  very  good  time  when  the  right 
man  wasn't  there!  Idiot!  Was  she  going  to  squander 
her  youth  regretting?  She  had  pined  in  her  cage, 
and  now  she  was  sentimentalising  when  she  had 
escaped.  "  Betty,"  she  advised  herself  earnestly,  "  for 
the  love  of  sense,  be  consistent,  my  dear!  You've  got 
what  you  wanted,  and  still  you  aren't  happy.  No- 
body but  me  would  have  any  patience  with  you !  " 

Was  she  already  forgetting  the  waiter  with  the 
grubby  shirt-front?  The  chilly  entrees,  stiffening  in 
their  gravy?  The  stodgy  white  sauce  for  the  flabby 
fish,  and  the  same  stodgy  white  sauce,  in  another 
tureen,  for  the  Appendicitis  pudding?  More  than  all, 
was  she  forgetting  the  third  room?  No,  memory 
displayed  them  to  her — in  the  theatres,  in  the 
shops,  in  the  whirligig  of  waste  that  was  her  life. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  225 

It  had  been  shocking,  odious,  bitter!  She  wouldn't 
idealise  the  execrable  because  it  was  past!  But 
she  had  been  unjust  to  Richard!  This  she  came  to 
see  now.  Once  she  said  so  to  Dardy,  when  they  were 
driving. 

"  You  know,  he  did  all  he  could  for  me,  but  make 
the  one  concession,"  she  said.  "  He  gave  me  every 
mortal  thing  I  asked,  outside  that.  If  he  hadn't  in- 
dulged me  so  much,  we  should  still  be  together." 

"  How  do  you  make  that  out?  " 

"  He  would  have  had  plenty  of  money  for  Baby's 
illness,  and  we  shouldn't  have  had  to  cable.  It  was 
the  cable  that  brought  about  the  separation — 
brought  about  the  climax,  anyhow.  And  it  wasn't 
his  fault  that  we  had  to  send  it,  it  was  the  fault  of 
my  extravagance." 

"  It's  lucky  you  were  extravagant,  then !  It's  no 
good,  I  can't  pretend  I'm  sorry  you're  here,  Betty. 
Only  I  do  want  you  to  see  the  business  through!  It 
isn't  through  like  this — you're  not  maid,  wife,  nor 
widow.  Besides,  he  can't  oppose  a  divorce;  it's  only 
fair  to  you  that  he  should  let  you  get  it." 

"  I  can't  see  that  I've  any  claim  on  him  that  way," 
said  Betty.  "  Between  you  and  me,  I  think  he's  got 
more  to  complain  about  than  7  have;  7've  got  Baby." 

"  Men  aren't  wrapt  up  in  babies  the  same  as  we  are." 

"  Dick  was  wrapt  up  in  ours." 


226  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

"  And  he  has  his  profession.  He'll  be  able  to  take 
it  easier  now;  his  expenses  will  be  less  without 
you." 

"  That's  true,"  said  his  wife  mournfully.  "  He'll  do 
better  work  now  I'm  gone.  He  had  to  paint  down 
for  me;  I  was  a  drag  on  his  genius  from  the  start." 

Dardy  Waldehast's  nose  turned  to  one  side. 

"  I  never  heard  he  was  a  '  genius  '  before!  " 

"  You  never  heard  anything  about  art  at  all,  that's 
why!  You  don't  know  a  picture  from  a  frying-pan, 
excepting  by  their  prices." 

"  Thank  you." 

"  No,  and  you  don't." 

"  And  how  much  have  you  learnt  about  '  art '  in 
five  minutes?  " 

"  Dardy,"  she  said,  touching  her  friend's  hand, 
"  since  I  went  away  I've  learnt  more  about  art,  and 
about  Real  Life,  than  all  the  women  at  the  dance 
last  night  lumped  together." 

"Better  take  care  you  don't  bust!"  said  Dardy 
pleasantly. 

"  Oh,  you  may  chip  me,  but  it's  true!  I'm  begin- 
ning to  see  how  much  I  did  learn.  I'm  beginning  to 
see  how  much  I  lacked — lack.  I've  had  no  ideals." 

"  If  you  have  anymore  virtues,  you'll  be  impossible." 

"  Every  one  of  those  women,  Dardy,  had  some- 
thing higher  than  7  have!  " 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  227 

"  I  thought  you  just  said  they  were  infants  by 
comparison?  " 

"  I'm  talking  about  the  women  in  the  studios  and 
the  attics  they  called  '  flats.'  They  weren't  all  clever, 
but  they  all  lived  for  something  they  expected  to  do, 
or  to  see  their  husbands  do.  They  all  had  an  aim  in 
life.  I've  no  aim,  except  to  make  my  baby  happy — 
and  perhaps  I  haven't  gone  the  right  road  to  do 
that." 

"  I  don't  know  what  there  is  to  worry  you  about 
the  baby." 

"  I'm  not  worrying.  But  I've  wondered  once  or 
twice." 

"Wondered  what?" 

"  Well,  suppose  he  grows  up  like  Richard?  The 
dollars  won't  compensate  him  for  the  disgrace." 

"Disgrace?" 

"  He'll  think  it  a  disgrace  if  he's  like  his  father. 
He'll  be  brought  up  an  American,  and  he'll  love  his 
country  with  all  his  heart  and  soul.  He'll  want  to 
paint  for  it,  or  to  legislate  for  it,  or  to  fight  for  it, 
or  to  work  for  its  glory  somehow;  America  will  be  a 
Religion  to  him.  That's  how  Richard  feels  about 
England.  A  boy  who  felt  the  same  way  about 
America  wouldn't  be  very  grateful  to  me  for  having 
suckled  him  on  his  nation's  blood.  He'd  tell  me  that 
he  would  rather  have  been  poor." 


228  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

After  a  stare  of  dismay,  the  other  woman  said  en- 
couragingly— 

"  I  don't  suppose  he  will  be  like  your  husband; 
he'll  grow  up  to  take  a  different  view  of  things." 

Betty's  eyes  were  more  mournful  still:  "  Y-e-s." 

"And,  anyhow,"  continued  Dardy,  "  isn't  that  tall 
talk  rather  rats,  considering?  You're  going  grand 
slam  on  'the  nation's  blood'  yourself,  you  know!  I 
don't  want  to  rub  it  in,  but  your  father  has  made  it 
very  soft  for  you.  It's  a  bit  thin  to  spout  heroics  and 
go  a  splurge  in  the  dollars  at  the  same  time." 

"  Don't  you  think  I  know  it?  "  exclaimed  Betty. 
"  I'm  the  meanest  skunk  that  ever  lived !  I  know 
that!  I  know  my  father  deserves  to  be  loved  by  me, 
at  any  rate,  and  I'm  ashamed  that  I  don't  love  him 
more,  and  I've  hated  myself  for  it  since  I've  been 
back.  But  you  can't  force  your  love,  and  you  can't 
quell  your  love;  you've  got  to  take  it  as  it  is,  like  the 
sun  in  the  sky.  I'm  a  fraud.  I  want  to  be  good,  and 
I  haven't  got  the  grit,  that's  what's  the  matter  with 
me!  When  I  do  right,  I'm  miserable;  and  when  I'm 
wicked,  I'm  not  at  peace  either.  There's  no  place  in 
the  world  for  such  a  shilly-shally  to  be  happy  in !  " 

"  You  were  all  right  before  you  met  this  man — 
you  had  none  of  these  crazy  notions  then." 

"That  isn't  so;  you  know  it  isn't.  I've  had  the 
thoughts  always.  He  only  strengthened  them.  But 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  229 

they  usedn't  to  come  top  so  often.  They  didn't  come 
top  so  often  even  when  I  was  with  him.  While  I  was 
hankering  after  the  dollars,  I  didn't  seem  to  feel  they 
were  so  guilty.  But  now  I've  got  them  again,  and 

I'm  spending  them,  and Oh,  Dardy,  the  truth's 

beastly  close! " 


XVIII 

GONE!  No  letter  from  her,  no  line.  For  weeks  he 
had  nursed  hope  of  an  olive  twig,  the  merest  hint. 
Gone — marriage,  fatherhood,  every  aim  but  art  that 
he  had  known  during  the  two  years  that  counted 
most!  Once  he  had  lived  alone  and  asked  for  noth- 
ing better;  to-day  his  spirit  listened  for  her  voice, 
and  waited  for  his  child's  in  every  waking  hour. 
Once  he  had  called  it  peace  to  be  alone;  to-day  he 
called  it  desolation. 

Wrench  up  a  life  by  its  roots  and  bid  it  bear  flowers ! 
Only  his  art  remained,  and  as  yet  he  could  not  paint. 

The  flat  was  shut.  He  would  never  enter  it  again. 
If  he  could  find  someone  to  relieve  him  of  its  burden, 
he  would  try  to  work  in  the  country.  In  the  mean- 
time, the  additional  expense  of  accommodation  there 
forbade  the  plan.  He  stayed  in  London,  and  lived  at 
the  studio. 

Gone!  Wretched  as  he  was,  he  did  not  delude 
himself.  He  was  not  longing  for  the  woman  that  she 
had  become,  but  he  was  in  love  with  the  woman 

23° 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  231 

that  she  used  to  be — or  seemed  to  be;  had  briefly 
been!  Remembrance  gave  her  back  to  him  in  many 
scenes,  and  all  were  early  scenes.  Sometimes  he  com- 
muned with  her  in  dreams,  and  woke  with  the  magic 
of  her  presence  still  clinging  to  his  senses.  To  wake 
was  to  lose  again.  And  the  Betty  he  had  just  seen 
lived  in  his  dreams  only  now!  He  knew  that  be- 
reavement by  change  was  more  poignant  than  be- 
reavement by  death. 

He  spent  the  evenings  smoking  alone,  or  roaming 
about  the  streets.  To  his  club  he  had  gone  seldom 
since  his  marriage,  and  now  he  shunned  it  rigidly. 
Nothing  would  induce  him  to  allude  to  the  circum- 
stances— let  time  reveal  them!  Everybody  had  told 
him  he  was  a  fool  at  the  beginning,  and,  among 
themselves,  men  would  say  worse  of  him  hencefor- 
ward. Such  sympathy  as  people  had  to  spare  would 
of  course  be  given  to  her — the  victim  of  his  high- 
flown  ideas.  Well,  Heaven  knew  she  was  welcome  to 
it!  For  that  matter,  he  would  far  rather  she  received 
sympathy  than  blame.  Yet  he  felt  it  to  be  a  little 
hard  that,  suffering  as  he  was,  he  must  figure  in  the 
world's  eyes  as  a  husband  without  affections,  a  brute 
who  had  sacrificed  his  wife  and  child  on  the  altar  of 
his  vanity. 

We  judge  humanity  by  the  few  humans  we  have 
known.  Keith  had  known  none  to  say  to  him,  "  You 


232  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

are  right."  No  man  had  owned,  "  You  are  practising 
only  what  we  preach — to  be  consistent,  we  should  all 
have  to  do  the  same!  "  On  the  contrary,  Lynch's  cen- 
sors had  counselled  his  son-in-law  to  take  his  money. 
Keith  had  no  hope  that  the  world  would  be  just. 

Of  course  he  said  that  he  didn't  care,  that  his 
plight  was  too  black  to  be  darkened;  but  we  all  want 
justice,  and  he  did  care.  When  necessity  drove  him 
to  an  easel  at  last,  work,  by  very  slow  degrees, 
yielded  his  only  solace.  The  sketches  of  his  wife 
which  he  had  removed  from  the  flat  faced  him  on  the 
walls — Betty  in  a  white  dinner-gown,  and  in  a  rose 
peignoir,  and  coiling  her  hair  before  a  mirror;  Betty 
saying,  "  Mr;  Keith,  You  will  please  Take  Me  Back 
to  the  Room." — each  of  them  a  reminder  and  a  pang! 
The  sight  of  them  hurt  him  so  much  that  he  huddled 
them  all  into  a  corner  one  day;  but  their  banishment 
hurt  him  so  much  that  he  put  them  back  again. 

And  meanwhile  his  wife  too  was  lonely,  although 
she  lived  in  crowds.  If  Dardy  had  said,  "  It's  thin  to 
spout  heroics  while  you're  spending  the  dollars,  so 
give  up  the  dollars,"  Betty  would  have  had  a  com- 
panion. But  Dardy  said,  "  So  give  up  the  heroics ! " 
It  was  painful  to  discover  that  Dardy  and  she  weren't 
such  chums  as  they  had  been.  Like  the  women  on 
the  boat,  the  friend  of  her  girlhood  seemed  very 
limited  now.  When  Betty  was  earnest,  Dardy  was 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  233 

bored;  and  when  Dardy  was  vivacious,  the  subject 
was  not  very  interesting  to  Betty. 

When  she  had  been  back  a  month,  she  insisted  on 
going  to  see  Howard  without  further  delay.  Lynch 
professed  to  be  unable  to  leave  New  York  just  then, 
and  she  travelled  to  Colorado  with  her  maid. 

In  truth,  she  had  been  less  eager  to  see  Howard 
than  to  withdraw  from  the  social  whirl,  and  here 
again  she  reproached  herself  for  coldness.  It  was 
queer  that  the  only  real  love  that  she  had  felt  had 
been  given  to  the  husband  whom  she  had  deserted 
and  the  son  who  might  live  to  condemn  her! 

"  I've  had  the  thoughts  always — he  only  strength- 
ened them."  It  was  true.  She  wondered  if,  without 
his  influence,  they  would  have  grown  to  daunt  her 
as  they  did  to-day.  Most  likely  not — she  would  have 
become  callous,  like  Dardy!  But  she  had  met  him 
while  she  was  still  impressionable.  Now  they  were 
supreme. 

And  also  she  had  come  to  see  that  the  shame  of 
the  money  was  not  her  only  shame — she  saw  that, 
even  if  her  luxury  had  been  honest,  it  would  have 
been  insufficient  to  content  her  apart  from  him.  In 
the  solitude  of  the  night  had  she  made  these  medita- 
tions? She  had  made  them  no  less  often  in  the 
crowds  where  bands  were  playing.  The  perception  of 
her  mind  and  soul's  development  had  come  to  the 


234  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

woman  at  all  hours.  It  had  trespassed  upon  ball- 
rooms and  intruded  into  restaurants. 

And  while  she  travelled  to  her  brother,  she  thought 
what  the  landscape  would  have  meant  to  Keith. 

The  journey  was  very  tedious  to  her — and  she  re- 
flected that  to  him  it  would  have  been  a  novelty  to 
travel  in  such  a  train.  They  reached  Fernando  Pros- 
pect on  Tuesday,  many  hours  late.  It  was  ten  o'clock 
in  the  evening  when  they  entered  the  ramshackle 
station,  but  the  conveyance  was  waiting  to  take  her 
to  the  hotel.  A  warm  wind  raged,  as  if  to  sweep 
the  little  town  to  ruins.  She  saw  a  belated  fruit- 
seller  clinging  breathlessly  to  palings  for  support; 
her  stall  had  been  overturned,  and  the  road  was 
ruddy  with  fruit.  Sweeping  and  volleying,  the  wind 
fought  the  carriage  as  the  horses  ploughed  forward. 
It  looked  to  her  a  strange  spot  for  the  cure  of 
phthisis. 

At  the  hotel  she  learnt  that  the  wind  was  "  drop- 
ping now,"  and  she  wondered  what  its  force  had  been 
originally. 

Early  next  day  she  was  at  the  sanatorium,  and  in 
the  reception-room  it  was  broken  to  her  that  the  case 
was  hopeless — Howard  was  dying  fast.  She  was  told 
that  a  letter  had  been  posted  to  Lynch  just  before 
the  receipt  of  the  telegram  announcing  her  depar- 
ture. Even  under  the  shock,  she  realised  that,  from 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  235 

mercenary  considerations,  much  of  the  truth  had 
been  withheld  hitherto — that  the  patient  had  been  too 
profitable  to  be  relinquished.  But  it  was  no  time  to 
make  reproaches. 

The  wasted  face  that  turned  to  her  on  the  pillow 
was  a  sermon  on  the  wasted  life. 

"Ah,  Betty,"  he  said  tonelessly. 

The  nurse  left  her  alone  with  him,  and  she  drew  a 
chair  to  his  side.  Beyond  the  bed,  all  was  sweet  air 
and  flowers.  Colorado  was  fair  this  morning.  Her 
view  was  a  peaceful  yellow  world — that,  and  the 
gaunt  face  of  the  dying  man. 

He  did  not  know  that  he  couldn't  recover;  he 
talked  of  "  getting  out  of  this  hole  before  long — 
coming  back."  Often  as  he  dwelt  on  his  symptoms, 
she  noticed  that  he  never  spoke  of  the  "  disease  " — 
it  was  always  the  "  illness."  Yet  he  seemed  to  under- 
stand that  he  could  never  again  be  quite  as  other 
men,  and  his  first  allusion  to  her  marriage  was 
coupled  with  a  lament  for  himself. 

"  We've  both  made  a  mess  of  it,  old  girl,"  he  said, 
"  eh?  " 

Fits  of  coughing  interrupted  his  speech  and  left 
him  very  tired.  He  had  had  a  bad  night,  so  she  had 
been  advised  not  to  stay  long.  But  she  returned  in 
the  afternoon. 

He  had  become  very  peevish  and  exacting,  and 


236  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

she  admired  the  gentleness  with  which  the  nurse  an- 
swered when  he  grumbled  at  her.  Was  she  so  kind 
when  no  one  else  was  there?  Betty  asked.  Yes,  he 
had  praise  for  his  nurse — strange  praise  on  Howard's 
lips:  "  She's  a  real  good  woman! "  he  said.  She  was 
young,  and  refined — many  less  attractive  girls  ex- 
pected to  make  great  matches.  Though  there  was 
nothing  singular  about  her,  she  was  extraordinary 
to  Lynch's  daughter,  who  contrasted  the  arduous  life 
with  her  own. 

"  You  have  a  great  deal  to  do,  nurse,"  she  re- 
marked on  the  morrow.  Howard  was  sleeping,  and 
they  were  together  in  the  adjoining  parlour. 

Nurse  Emery  looked  gratified. 

"  I  wonder  you  think  so — what  you  see  isn't 
much!  The  visitors  don't  see  the  work.  As  a  rule, 
visitors  think  a  nurse's  life  is  very  '  pretty.' ' 

"  7  think  it  must  be  terrible,"  said  Betty.  "  Are 
you  an  enthusiast?  " 

"  I  would  rather  do  this  than  anything  else  I  am 
capable  of." 

"  I  meant,  did  you  go  in  for  it  just  for  the  love  of 
it?  I  know  there  are  girls  who  do." 

The  head-shake  was  prompt  and  cheerful. 

"  Oh  no,  Mrs.  Keith;  I'm  not  a  heroine — I  had  to 
make  a  living,  and  I  chose  the  way  I  liked  best,  that's 
all." 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  237 

"  Does  it  lead  to  anything? — is  there  anything  to 
look  forward  to?  " 

"  Why,  no;  I  expect  I'll  be  nursing  as  long  as  I'm 
strong  enough." 

"And  yet  you  seem  so  contented?"  said  Betty 
wistfully. 

"  Well,  I've  got  to  make  a  living  somehow,"  re- 
peated the  girl;  "whatever  I  did,  it'd  mean  work. 
And  this  way,  I'm  helping  other  people  at  the  same 
time.  That  keeps  one's  heart  up;  there's  some  pull 
about  that!" 

"  Yes,"  murmured  Betty,  "  there  must  be  some 
pull  about  that !  "  But  she  wasn't  so  sure  of  her  being 
no  heroine. 

She  went  each  morning  to  the  sanatorium.  She 
sat  daily  in  her  brother's  rooms,  overhanging  the 
yellow,  smiling  landscape,  that  looked  so  remote 
from  death — sat  learning  to  be  patient,  recalling  his 
childhood,  enduring  his  hopes. 

His  body  was  taken  to  New  York. 


XIX 

THE  old  are  frightened  when  the  young  die.  Though 
Lynch's  love  for  his  son  had  grown  less  as  the  boy 
grew  older,  his  consternation  was  deep — far  too  deep 
for  Betty  to  startle  him  with  the  thoughts  thronging 
her  mind. 

She  lived  very  quietly  now,  and  the  retirement  was 
welcome  to  her.  But  retirement  could  not  still  her 
memories  of  Keith,  it  could  not  pacify  her  con- 
science. She  had  failed.  She  was  bringing  up  his 
child  on  the  wealth  that  he  condemned,  and  she  re- 
volted at  the  knowledge. 

Defenceless,  for  she  had  admitted  his  right  to  con- 
demn! She  had  chosen  evil  seeing  it  to  be  evil, 
chosen  it  with  her  eyes  open,  understanding  all — ex- 
cept the  latent  truth  within  herself. 

They  owed  it  to  this  wealth  that  their  child  lived! 
Inscrutable!  It  might  be  that  the  very  dollars  which 
saved  him  had  cost  the  life  of  another.  Well,  if  it 
was  heinous  so  to  save  one's  child,  she  took  the  sin 
upon  her  soul,  as  Keith  had  done,  without  repent- 

238 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  239 

ance!  But  afterwards?  No  obscurity  there!  The  facts 
blazed  fiercely.  Not  gratitude  nor  necessity  could  be 
her  plea.  She  had  sinned  because  she  was  a  coward. 
She  had  pillaged  for  her  own  ends. 

From  Lynch  she  must  at  present  withhold  her  in- 
tention, and  she  had  to  unburden  her  mind  to  someone. 

"  I  mean  to  go  back,"  she  said  to  Dardy  two  or 
three  weeks  after  the  funeral. 

"  I  thought  you  would ! "  said  Dardy,  with  a 
shrug.  "  What  good  do  you  think  that  will  do?  " 

"  For  one  thing,  it  will  make  me  happier." 

"  It  won't  last  any  longer  this  time  than  it  did  be- 
fore— it  won't  last  so  long!  " 

"  I  mean  it  to  last  all  my  life  this  time.  And  it  will 
— it's  different  now." 

"  I  don't  see  where  the  difference  comes  in.", 

"  Before,  I  had  no  idea  what  it  would  be  like;  now, 
I  know  just  what  I've  got  to  expect." 

"  And  you  know  you  weren't  able  to  stand  it!  Why 
should  you  stand  it  any  better  now?  It's  easy  to  be 
courageous  while  you're  safe.  Wait  till  you  get  back 
— you'll  find  it  all  as  impossible  as  ever!  ...  If  you 
had  let  your  father  do  as  he  wanted,  you'd  have 
spared  yourself  all  this  kind  of  thing.  Get  comfort- 
ably divorced,  and  you'll  know  where  you  are — you'll 
feel  settled  then.  And  much  better  for  your  husband 
too!  He'd  know  this  resolution  of  yours  wouldn't 


24o  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

wash.  It's  a  muddling  sort  of  life  for  a  man  to  have 
a  wife  always  saying  '  Farewell  for  ever,'  and  *  Here 
I  am  again! '  If  you  returned  to  him  to-morrow,  you 
don't  suppose  he'd  believe  in  your  promises?  " 

"  No,"  said  Betty,  "  he  couldn't  believe  in  them  a 
little  bit;  I've  given  myself  away  too  much  for  that. 
No,  I've  thought  all  that  out!  If  I  went  back  to  him 
now,  it'd  be  a  big  mistake — he'd  have  no  faith  in  me, 
and  I'd  have  no  right  to  expect  it.  It'd  be  a  sham 
homecoming,  and  that  would  be  horrible!  But  it 
isn't  what  I  mean  to  do.  I  mean  to  educate  myself 
first." 

"  What?  " 

"  I  have  got  to  live  like  that  alone.  Then  when  I  go 
back  to  him,  there'll  be  no  doubts  to  spoil  our  meet- 
ing. I  intend  to  go  to  him  as  a  wife  who  has  proved 
herself ;  I  am  going  to  be  able  to  say,  *  I  have  done  it, 
so  I  know  that  I  can  do  it! '  Only  it'd  be  cruel  to 
leave  here  so  soon  after  Howard's  death — I  must 
wait  a  month  or  two." 

"You're  going  to  live  like  that  alone?"  cried 
Dardy.  "  How?  What  are  you  going  to  live  on — 
'  genteel  poverty  '  from  your  father?  If  you  can  ac- 
cept a  little,  you  can  accept  a  lot — the  dollars  aren't 
any  purer  taken  in  small  quantities." 

"  I  am  not  going  to  have  anything  at  all  from  my 
father — I  shall  manage  on  my  own  money.  If  I  live 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  241 

in  England — and  I  want  to  be  in  England — it'll  mean 
nearly  two  pounds  a  week.  There  are  plenty  of 
women  there  who  live  on  less." 

Dardy  Waldehast  opened  her  mouth  as  if  to  ex- 
claim, but  regarded  her  friend  in  helpless  silence.  At 
last  she  said  feebly — 

"  Two  pounds  a  week?  " 

"  Plenty  of  women  there  live  on  less,"  repeated 
Betty.  "Why  shouldn't  /?— I'm  not  a  fool." 

"  Women !  What  sort  of  women  ?  There  are  women 
who  tell  fortunes  with  birds  on  the  side-walk.  What's 
that  got  to  do  with  you?  You  must  be  out  of  your 
head !  You  don't  know  how  to  tell  fortunes  with  birds 
or  live  on  two  pounds  a  week,  do  you  ?  " 

"  No,  no  better  than  you,  Dardy.  But  7'm  going 
to  learn — not  how  to  tell  fortunes  with  birds,  I  have 
no  use  for  the  accomplishment — but  how  to  make  my- 
self a  real  wife  for  the  man  I  married.  That's  the  ob- 
ject of  my  life — and  I'll  put  up  with  some  pretty 
rough  times  to  succeed.  Don't  make  a  mistake:  I'm 
quite  aware  what  two  pounds  a  week  will  be  to  me! 
I  was  frightened  on  ten — on  two,  I  shall  feel  as  lost 
as  both  the  Babes  in  the  Wood  at  the  start.  But  I 
know  that  shoals  of  women  do  contrive  on  that — 
and  gentlewomen — and  what  they  are  capable  of  do- 
ing, 7  will  become  capable  of  doing.  I  don't  choose 
to  remain  inferior  to  any  woman  living;  I  don't 


242  THE   HOUSE    OF   LYNCH 

choose  to  lose  my  husband  and  my  self-respect  because 

other  women  know  more  than  I  do." 

Dardy  groaned. 

"  You'd  be  less  demented  to  go  right  back  to  him! 
You  in  London,  on  two  pounds  a  week?  Hanging 
out  the  washing  on  the  tenement  balcony?  " 

"  I'm  not  going  to  live  in  London;  I'll  go  to  the 
country,  where  it's  cheaper,  and  the  air  will  be  better 
for  Baby.  I'll  have  rooms  in  a  village.  Why,  we 
knew  people  who  looked  forward  to  rooms  in  a  vil- 
lage somewhere — it  was  their  Newport,  they  were 
'  lucky  '  the  summer  they  could  afford  to  go." 

"  Some  people  are  lucky  the  summer  they  go  hop- 
ping. It  all  depends  what  you're  used  to.  Your 
plan's  farce.  The  baby  prevents  it  right  away — your 
nurse  wouldn't  stay  with  you." 

"  Of  course  she  won't  stay — I  won't  be  able  to  pay 
her  wages.  I'll  take  nurse  back  to  England,  but  we 
shall  part  in  town." 

"  You're  going  to  be  his  nurse  yourself?  " 

"  I'm  going  to  be  his  Mother.  That's  just  part  of 
the  education.  I've  adored  my  baby,  but  I  haven't 
done  anything  worth  a  cent  for  him.  Well,  I'm  going 
to  begin.  And  he'll  love  me  better  for  it  soon,  too! 
I  had  my  first  lesson  last  night;  she  thought  it  was  a 
caprice,  but  it  would  never  do  for  him  to  be  left  de- 
pendent on  me  while  I  could  only  kneel  down  and 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  243 

worship  when  he  was  dressed  to  kill.  Dardy,  I  tell 
you  he  seemed  more  my  own  son  in  the  five  minutes 
that  I  was  splashing  his  little  chuck  of  a  body  in 
that  bath  last  night  than  he  had  done  in  all  the 
months  since  he  was  born!  I  was  covered  up  in 
nurse's  big  apron,  and  he  rolled  on  my  lap  like  a 
little  wet  cherub,  and  I  couldn't  dry  him  for  joy! " 

"  Betty,  it  won't  work!  " 

"  It  has  to  work.  The  only  thing  I'm  wondering 
is  how  I'm  going  to  take  him  out— I'm  not  keen  on 
pushing  a  baby-carriage.  But  perhaps  in  the  coun- 
try I  could  get  a  girl  to  come  and  do  that  for  a  trifle. 
I'd  go  with  her  to  see  that  nothing  happened." 

"  Are  you  proposing  to  make  your  own  bed  and 
cook  your  own  dinner  too?  " 

"No;  in  English  'apartments'  there's  a  'land- 
lady '  who  does  that." 

"  Just  as  well  to  be  thorough  while  you're  about 
it,  don't  you  think?  "  said  Dardy  drily. 

"  I  mean  to  be  thorough.  My  aim  is  to  learn  what 
I  need  to  know.  If  I  learn  how  to  content  myself  on 
two  pounds  a  week,  I'll  have  done  all  that's  necessary, 
and  more — he  never  asked  me  to  live  on  so  little." 

"  And  how  long  do  you  give  yourself  to  learn  it  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  can't  say  that.  I  expect  it'll  be  hard." 

"  Yes,  I  should  say  it  would!  You've  been  wasting 
dollars  all  your  life,  Betty — you  don't  imagine  you  can 


244  THE    HOUSE    OF   LYNCH 

become  somebody  else  because  you  want  to?  Your 
intentions  are  all  right — I  appreciate  them,  from  a 
distance — butyou  can't  dyeyour  nature  anothercolour 
in  a  few  months  with  a  course  of  noble  intentions." 

"  I'm  not  thinking  of  a  few  months,"  said  Betty 
pensively;  "  I'm  hoping  I  may  get  used  to  it  in  about 
a  year.  When  I  go,  there'll  be  another  dividend 
towards  the  passage  money — and  I'll  travel  cheap.  A 
year's  a  long  time.  Say  there  were  three  months  to 
despond  in,  and  three  to  begin  to  lift  my  head  up; 
then  I'd  have  six  months  left  to  get  cheerful.  I  don't 
think  that's  too  sanguine?  " 

"  Aren't  you  overlooking  that  you  had  about 
twice  as  long  to  get  cheerful — and  couldn't  do  it? 
On  more  than  two  pounds  a  week!  " 

"  Yes — I  mean  *  no.'  I'm  not  overlooking  it ;  I've 
said  that  myself!  But  I  have  altered  through  good  in- 
tentions— and  perhaps  more  through  bad  mistakes. 
It  may  be  just  as  well  that  I  came  back — if  I  hadn't 
come  back  I  might  always  have  craved  for  it.  I've 
realised  myself  here.  I  shall  never  crave  any  more, 
because  I've  found  it  doesn't  make  me  happy  now 
I've  got  it.  And  that  '  twice  as  long '  was  education 
too.  I  know  now  it  wasn't  all  wasted,  though  it 
seemed  to  be.  And  there's  another  thing  on  top  of 
that:  I  had  Dick  to  indulge  me  before,  and  I  wasn't 
earnest  enough  to  say, '  Don't  do  it.'  This  time  I  shall 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  245 

stand  alone;  this  time  there  can't  be  any  compromise 
in  any  moment — I've  either  got  to  learn  the  lesson, 
every  line  of  it,  or  be  ashamed  as  long  as  I  live.  I'm 
fighting  for  the  Right.  Why,  I'm  so  sure  I'll  win  at  the 
finish,  that  the  worst  part  of  it  all  won't  be  the  strug- 
gle— it'll  be  letting  Dick  think  that  I'm  still  here  with- 
out a  conscience.  I  can't  help  that!  I  daren't  let  him 
hear  from  me  till  I'm  through,  however  long  it  takes." 

"Why?" 

"  Because  it'd  be  the  end  of  my  plan — he'd  make 
me  go  back  to  him  before  I  ought,  and  before  he  truly 
wanted  me  again.  He  shall  have  faith  in  me  before 
I  go !  I  don't  allow  my  husband  to  '  rescue '  me  out 
of  pity.  He's  got  to  come  and  want  me  as  he  never 
wanted  me  in  all  his  days — to  be  in  love  with  my  soul 
as  well  as  my  face ;  he's  got  to  feel  that  I'm  just  the  one 
thing  in  this  world  that  could  make  life  worth  living 
for  him."  The  dimple  confirmed  the  chin — "  And  then 
it'll  be  good  enough !  " 

Dardy  was  glad  that  the  news  wasn't  to  be  broken 
to  Lynch  yet — in  a  month  or  two  the  fervour  might 
subside.  But  she  shuddered.  Though  she  had  scoffed 
at  the  project  and  called  it  "  farce,"  something  in 
her — an  instinct  of  her  earlier  self — had  been  im- 
pressed. The  earlier  self  believed,  so  the  later  woman 
was  alarmed. 

It  was  more  than  two  months  before  the  night  that 


246  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

Betty  broached  the  matter  to  her  father.  He  brooded 
less  on  Howard's  death.  The  fascination  of  finance, 
the  subject  of  her  divorce,  were  again  dominant  in  his 
mind.  She  felt  that  it  must  be  now  or  never  that  she 
told  him.  But  it  punished  her  to  deal  the  blow.  With 
her  deeper  comprehension  of  herself,  she  entered  more 
fully  into  the  feelings  of  others.  At  once  less  artful 
and  less  shallow  than  she  had  been,  she  understood 
what  the  parting  would  be  to  him.  Development  is  the 
gift  of  Events,  not  of  Time.  The  girl  had  gone  who 
only  two  years  ago  had  told  him  carelessly  that  she 
meant  to  take  a  trip  to  Europe,  when  she  meant  to 
meet  her  lover  on  the  steamer.  The  Betty  of  to-day 
could  have  done  that  no  more  than  she  could  have  lost 
sight  of  her  purpose  to  chatter  about  curling-irons  in 
the  stateroom. 

"  Father,"  she  said,  "  I  have  got  to  say  something 
that  will  make  you  feel  bad.  I  am  missing  my 
husband." 

It  seemed  to  Lynch  that  his  heart  sank  slowly  till  it 
lay  a  weight  in  his  stomach.  He  blinked  at  her  silently. 

Then  he  said — 

"  You  ain't  missing  him,  honey ;  you've  got  the 
hump,  that's  all.  It's  natural — you  can't  have  any 
gaiety  now.  We'll  put  that  to  rights  before  long, 
though;  hold  on  a  bit!  " 

"  It  isn't  that !  I'm  thankful  to  have  no  gaiety ;  I've 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  247 

been  missing  him  from  the  day  I  sailed.  It  was  more 
than  a  little  to  get  away  from  the  gaiety  that  I  went 
to  Fernando  Prospect.  You  see — you  see,  I  love  him! 
That's  the  whole  story." 

"  What's  the  good  of  loving  him  when  he  won't 
climb  down  ?  I  want  you  to  be  happy,  you  know  that, 
but  it  don't  rest  with  me.  When  you  told  me,  at  the 
start,  you  thought  so  much  about  him,  I  said,  '  Well, 
you  shall  marry  him,  then ! '  Didn't  I  ?  It  wasn't  what 
I  aimed  at  for  you,  but  I  knuckled  under.  I'm  ready 
to  knuckle  under  now,  but  what  can  I  do?  If  it  was 
him  that  was  talking,  instead  of  you,  I'd  soon  fix 
things ;  but  if  you  make  the  move,  it  isn't  easy  to  make 
the  conditions." 

"  I  don't  want  any  conditions,"  she  said.  "  That's 
the  part  that's  going  to  hurt  you  most,  but  I've  got  to 
say  it — I  know  he's  right." 

He  didn't  start,  but  his  gaze  widened  at  space. 
Again  there  were  seconds  before  he  spoke. 

"  See  here,  he  has  put  his  principes  first,  not  you. 
Some  people  might  deduce  that  he's  not  attached  to 
you — I  don't  now,  I've  lived  too  long!  But,  in  your 
own  interests,  try  to  answer  this  straight — is  he  as 
fond  of  you  as  you  are  of  him?  If  that's  so,  we'll  get 
him  over  on  some  pretext — cable  him  you're  sick — 
and  I'll  fix  matters  then,  or  you  may  call  me  a  fool." 

She  demurred  in  a  low  voice,  "  I  don't  want  them 


248  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

'  fixed.'  I  mean  it  to  end  his  way.  That's  real.  No  one 
can  alter  it.  It'll  pain  us  both  for  nothing  if  you  try. 
I've  meant  it  for  months,  but  I  couldn't  tell  you  before. 
Father,  it  has  got  to  be !  " 

Lynch  put  out  his  hand  mechanically  for  a  cigar, 
and  bit  off  the  point,  and  struck  a  match — all  slowly, 
still  with  the  unseeing  stare.  The  match  burnt  to  his 
fingers  before  he  thought  to  raise  it.  He  let  it  fall — 
and  took  the  cigar  from  his  mouth. 

"  W-e-11 !  "  he  said  submissively. 

"  I  want  to  go  at  once.  I'm  going  to  stay  in  the 
country  there  first — I  have  got  to  learn  how  to  do 
better  before  I  meet  him.  I  want  you  to  send  rne  the 
interest  on  my  own  dollars  to  live  on." 

"  Are  you  remembering  what  it  is  ?  " 

"  Yes.  I'm  going  to  send  nurse  away ;  I'm  going  to 
live  like  a  poor  woman.  I  shan't  write  to  him  while 
I'm  there;  I  must  qualify  myself  for  our  life  together 
first.  If  you  find  out  where  he  is  and  give  him  my 
address,  you'll  ruin  the  only  chance  of  happiness  that 
I  have  left.  It  would  be  no  use  my  going  to  him  till 
I'm  ready." 

"  If  you  can  live  on  ten  dollars  a  week,  you're  ready 
now,"  moaned  Lynch. 

"  No,  I'll  find  it  very  rough  on  ten  dollars  a  week 
for  a  long  time.  I  shan't  be  ready  till  I  find  it  smooth." 

"  Betty,"  he  sobbed  shrilly,  "  I  can't  bear  you  to  do 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  249 

it !  "  Tears  gushed  from  his  eyes.  "  You're  all  I've 
got  now.  For  God's  sake !  " 

"  I  must,"  she  said. 

"  Don't  quit  me  like  that — to  know  you're  in 
want.  Think  what  I'll  feel!"  The  next  instant  the 
bent  figure  shot  upright,  he  stood  erect,  livid,  ter- 
rible in  fear.  "  What  when  you  get  it  all? "  he 
gasped;  "  when  I  die?  " 

She  slowly  shook  her  head. 

"  You  must !  "  The  man  was  a  tempest,  raving, 
overwhelming  her.  "  When  I'm  dead,  it'll  be  yours 
now,  all — you  must!  " 

"  No." 

"  Do  you  know  what  you're  saying?  There's  no 
one  else — you  must!" 

"  I  can't,  I  wouldn't!  Don't  leave  it  to  me." 

"  Who  then?  " 

"The  nation!"  she  begged.  "Make  amends!" 

"  Amends?  "  he  screamed.  "  For  what?  To  Hell 
with  the  nation!  My  life's  work  to  my  flesh  and 
blood!" 

"  I'd  do  what's  right.  Why  not  you — it'll  cost  you 
nothing?  If  you  leave  it  to  me,  I'll  never  touch  it,  I 
swear  to  Heaven  I  won't!  Then  why  not  you?  Do 
it  yourself.  Why  not  ?  Let  them  say,  '  At  the  end 
he  did  good'!" 

"  Do  I  care  what  they  say?  Did  I  ever  care?  Shall 


250  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

I  care  when  I'm  dead?  Mylife'swhat  matters — what's 
my  life  if  I  know  you'll  refuse  the  dollars  when  I'm 
gone?  It's  the  work  of  sixty  years  you  talk  of  wast- 
ing. Betty,  you'll  be  one  of  the  richest  women  on 
earth — kings  and  queens  '11  envy  you!  He  won't  ask 
you  to  refuse  when  I'm  gone — it's  me,  my  name, 
that's  the  trouble.  When  I'm  gone,  he'll  '  forget ' 
where  it  all  came  from.  Pay  a  million  pounds  to  char- 
ities— nobody  '11  criticise  the  rest.  A  million — all  the 
world  '11  'forget'  for  it!" 

"No!" 

"You  shall!"  he  shrieked.  "It's  my  lifetime  you're 
pitching  away.  Pay  two  millions,  three  millions — pay 
ten  millions  if  you  like — you  can  be  called  a  '  Saint ' 
for  ten  millions!  You  shall  keep  the  rest — you  shall!" 

"No!"  she  cried,  and  he  struck,  frenzied,  at  her 
white  face. 

Their  eyes  met  aghast.  He  dropped  into  a  chair,  a 
quivering,  shrunk  old  man. 

"I  didn't  know  I  was  going  to  do  it!  I  didn't 
know!" 

Her  arm  went  round  his  neck.  "  It  doesn't  matter 
— I  understand!  " 

"I've  struck  you!  I've  struck  my  girl!  Betty,  my 
honey,  forgive  me !  " — He  fondled  her  hand  convul- 
sively.— "  I've  struck  my  girl!  Lovey,  I  didn't  know 
what  I  was  doing,  I'm  broken  up.  Betty,  you'll  take 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  251 

it  back?  Have  mercy!  Think  what  it  means  to 
me!  My  brains,  my  schemes  for  nothing — ruin,  from 
you!  " 

"  I  can't  take  it  back,"  she  groaned,  "  you  know, 
you  know  I  can't!  " 

"  I  know?  I  wish  I'd  died  before  you  could  tell  me! 
What  have  I  to  hope  for,  what's  left?  All  the  work 
of  my  life  scattered!  Have  you  got  no  feeling?" 
His  sobs  tore  his  chest.  "  O  my  God,  I  never  was 
hard  in  my  home,  but  it  has  always  been  my  children 
who've  made  me  suffer! " 


XX 

IT  had  been  a  pitiful  leave-taking.  She  had  instructed 
the  bankers  to  close  her  account,  and  to  transfer  the 
balance  to  her  father's;  she  had  set  her  foot  upon  the 
narrow  way.  But  she  wore  no  crown  of  righteousness 
to  mark  her  dignity,  she  knew  no  glow  of  virtue  to 
light  her  path.  As  she  had  said,  she  understood — and 
to  understand  was  to  suffer.  She  knew  that  he  ranked 
her  now,  must  always  rank  her,  among  his  enemies — 
and  of  all  his  enemies  the  worst.  In  his  eyes,  she  was 
without  defence;  she  was  a  daughter  who  had  repaid 
devotion  by  a  callous  wrong.  When  she  had  been 
weak,  his  home,  his  fortune,  his  arms,  all  had  been 
open  to  her;  now  that  she  had  gained  strength,  she 
had  laid  waste  the  achievement  of  his  life. 

Perforce!  She  had  had  to  deny  his  plea,  or  sin 
towards  her  conscience,  and  her  husband,  and  her  boy. 
Now  she  realised  what  Keith  had  suffered  in  denying 
her  own  plea.  But  it  seemed  to  her  very  cruel  that  she 
could  not  do  what  was  right  without  breaking  a  heart. 
She  was  not  the  woman  to  view  herself  as  an  ap- 

252 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  253 

pointed  instrument  of  Retribution — she  was  only  a 
very  human  woman,  trying  to  be  good — and  she  sor- 
rowed to  feel  that,  not  by  the  vengeance  of  the  multi- 
tudes, not  by  the  Hand  of  God,  could  her  father  have 
been  stricken  more  utterly  than  by  this  inevitable 
blow  that  was  dealt  by  her.  He  was  left  to  contem- 
plate millions  that  were  useless,  a  dominion  that  had 
crumbled,  a  palace  that  was  void.  Beggary  itself  would 
have  been  more  merciful  if  it  had  spared  him  his  child. 
The  havoc  was  complete. 

It  was  early  April  when  she  arrived  in  England. 
Until  it  was  settled  where  she  was  to  live,  she  must 
.  retain  the  nurse,  for  she  could  not  take  the  baby  with 
her  when  she  looked  for  country  rooms.  For  the 
interval  she  had  thought  of  a  boarding-house  in 
Bloomsbury;  but  even  heroism  may  shrink  from 
English  boarding-houses — especially  London  board- 
ing-houses. Besides,  she  might  need  to  stay  in  town 
only  for  a  night  or  two!  The  reflection  consoled  her 
for  the  comparative  extravagance  of  a  cheap  hotel 
— where  she  avoided  the  nurse's  eyebrows. 

Only  in  a  village  could  she  hope  for  her  income  to 
suffice,  and  her  mind  had  turned  to  the  one  village 
that  she  knew.  The  weather  next  day  was  favourable 
— if  the  morning  had  been  wet,  she  was  afraid  that 
she  might  have  been  cowardly  enough  to  postpone  her 
quest.  She  left  the  hotel  after  breakfast,  and  took  a 


254  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

motor  'bus  to  Charing  Cross,  and  a  second-class  return 
ticket  to  Tunbridge  Wells.  Up  to  the  last  minute  she 
had  meant  to  travel  "  third,"  but  the  resolution  forsook 
her  at  the  booking  office,  and  she  promised  herself  to 
atone  for  the  indulgence  by  lunching  on  sponge-cakes. 

And  in  Tunbridge  Wells  the  sun  shone  too. 

It  was  a  black-robed,  grave-faced  Betty  who  walked 
across  the  common  into  Rusthall,  and  met  at  every 
step  the  gossamer  Betty  of  the  honeymoon.  It  was 
a  new  and  nauseous  task  to  knock  at  cottage  doors, 
where  dirty  children  swarmed,  and  ask,  "  What  have 
you  to  let?"  It  was  appalling  to  discover  that  the  "  un- 
sophisticated villagers"  referred  to  the  "season," and 
"  extras,"  and  glibly  mentioned  "  guineas."  A  milk- 
man rested  his  pails  and  recommended  her  to  try  Bon 
Repos  in  Paradise  Road,  and  she  gave  him  sixpence, 
and  reproached  herself  for  it  all  the  way  there.  (It 
must  be  twopence  in  future;  she  must  never  forget 
that  again!)  But  the  dumpy  villa  was  so  much  su- 
perior to  the  costly  cottages  that  she  feared  the 
milkman  had  been  deceived  in  her  position.  She  rang 
the  brass  bell  diffidently. 

A  servant  advanced  along  the  passage — oh,  the 
place  was  beyond  her  means,  she  might  have  known  it! 

Would  she  step  inside? 

Amazing  that  a  white  woman  could  make  a  room 
so  hideous! 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  255 

The  householder  entered,  wreathed  in  beams,  and 
beads. 

"  Apartments?  "  Her  beam  subsided.  "  Oh  no,  I 
never  let  apartments!  "  She  seemed  rather  hurt  by 
the  suggestion.  "  I  only  take  P.G.'s." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon?  "  said  Betty. 

"  P.G.'s,"  said  the  lady  ingratiatingly,  "  er — pay- 
ing guests." 

"  Thank  you.  I  am  so  sorry  to  have  troubled  you 
for  nothing." 

It  was  a  miserable  day.  There  were  moments  when 
she  sat  on  a  bench  and  could  have  cried  with  disap- 
pointment and  fatigue.  She  had  pictured  herself  ar- 
ranging the  matter  soon,  and  peeping  at  the  Happy 
Valley  before  she  returned;  but  the  hours  went  by, 
and  the  sun  went  down,  and  still  the  multi-million- 
airess in  posse  was  homeless  on  the  common. 

At  the  baker's,  where  she  had  had  her  frugal  lunch- 
eon, she  had  a  late  tea,  and  the  baker's  daughter,  on 
hearing  her  difficulties,  recommended  her  to  try  Mrs. 
Purdie,  at  3  Fuchsia  Terrace.  Mrs.  Purdie  proved  to 
be  a  large,  untidy,  cheerful  woman  who  offered  an 
airy  bedroom  and  a  little  ground-floor  parlour,  with 
the  use  of  the  harmonium,  for  fourteen  shillings  a 
week.  She  explained  that  she  had  never  taken  lodgers 
yet,  but  that  her  neighbour,  Mrs.  Wright,  was  "  put- 
ting her  in  the  way  of  things — and  you'll  be  quite  com- 


256  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

fortable  with  me,  my  dear!"  At  this  stage,  cheerful- 
ness was  welcome,  and  criticism  was  not  acute.  Betty 
settled  to  go  to  her  on  the  following  afternoon. 

So  on  the  morrow  the  nurse — bound  for  her  par- 
ents', in  Felixstowe — kissed  the  baby  "good-bye"; 
and  she  kissed  him  with  so  much  emotion  that  Betty's 
mouth  quivered  in  parting  from  her.  "  I'll  give  you  a 
perfectly  splendid  '  character '  when  I'm  written  to, 
nurse,"  she  said,  "you  may  rely  on  that!  You  quite 
understand  that  you're  not  leaving  me  because  I  don't 
appreciate  you?"  She  was  conscious,  however,  that 
"  Fuchsia  Terrace  "  did  not  sound  an  impressive  ad- 
dress. And  then  the  nurse's  luggage  was  put  on  a 
cab;  and  then  the  other  luggage  was  put  on  a  cab;  and 
last,  Betty  and  her  baby  went  forth  together. 

As  she  carried  him  down  the  steps,  his  solemn  eyes 
seemed  to  question  her;  but,  as  well  as  if  he  could 
express  himself,  she  felt  that  he  agreed  with  her  dur- 
ing the  drive. 

"  You  know  we're  doing  the  square  thing,"  she 
prattled,  "  so  you'll  make  it  as  light  as  you  can  for 
momma,  won't  you,  Ducksums?  Don't  cry  till  we  get 
there,  if  you  can  help  it.  When  we're  alone,  we  can 
have  a  good  howl  together,  but  we'll  keep  up  our  pluck 
in  front  of  strangers,  my  son!  And  you  shan't  ever 
miss  your  nursie — your  mother'll  be  as  good,  and 
better,  to  you  all  day  long! " 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  257 

He  was  heavy  for  his  age;  her  arms  ached  amid 
the  confusion  of  Charing  Cross.  "  Her  baby  and  her 
baggage  give  momma  plenty  to  watch,  don't  they, 
Richard  mine?  "  she  murmured.  "  Patience,  sonny, 
we'll  get  through  in  time!  There  are  green  trees  at 
the  end,  Richard — trees,  and  the  Happy  Valley!  " 

Well,  he  was  only  a  year  old!  If  he  did  fret  a  little, 
could  she  be  surprised?  "  Is  it  that  '  Second  '  on  the 
door,  my  sweetheart?  "  she  cooed.  "  To-day  it'd  have 
been  '  Third/  if  I  hadn't  taken  you;  but  I  couldn't  be 
mean  to  you  after  luxuriating  yesterday  myself. 
Look  on  the  bright  side,  Belovedy— we've  got  the 
dusty  compartment  to  ourselves,  and  that's  much  to 
be  thankful  for!  " 

In  the  fly  that  took  them  into  Rusthall  he  fell 
asleep  on  her  breast,  and  he  wept  at  being  wakened. 
Their  arrival  was  noisy  with  his  displeasure,  and  the 
cheerfulness  of  Mrs.  Purdie,  and  the  excitement  of 
anaemic  and  unsuspected  offspring.  Mrs.  Purdie 
bawled  that  the  table  was  set  for  tea.  The  fact  was 
obvious,  but  she  dwelt  upon  it.  She  was  astonished 
to  hear  that  he  had  a  bath  every  night — her  neigh- 
bour, Mrs.  Wright,  had  told  her  not  to  supply  a  bath 
oftener  than  once  a  week.  Still,  the  warm  water  was 
provided,  and  Betty  dried  him  with  the  solitary  towel 
that  was  displayed. 

When  he  slept  again,  she  went  down  to  the  sitting- 


258  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

room,  leaving  both  doors  open,  that  she  might  hear 
him  if  he  wailed.  The  flight  of  stairs  between  them 
was  short,  but  she  regretted  that  the  two  rooms 
weren't  on  one  floor.  She  sat  by  the  window  and 
watched  the  common  fade,  until  the  moon  rose.  And 
then  Mrs.  Purdie  shut  out  the  moon  and  brought  in 
a  malodorous  lamp  and  the  supper. 

"I'd  clean  forgot  about  you  sitting  in  the  dark! 
You  must  holler  out  if  you  want  anything,  my  dear. 
There,  I've  got  a  nice  bit  o'  steak  for  you!  It's 
caught  a  bit  just  'ere  " — she  drew  a  deprecating  and 
dirty  finger  over  half  of  it — "  but  it's  beautiful  and 
tender!  "  The  finger  was  poked  into  the  middle  of  the 
steak  three  times. 

Silence  surprised  her ;  she  said,  "  You're  feeling  a 
bit  done  up  after  your  journey,  p'raps?  Your  sup- 
per '11  do  you  good !  " 

"  I  don't  think,"  said  Betty,  very  faintly,  "  that  I 
am  hungry;  I  think  I'd  like  a  biscuit  instead." 

"  You  didn't  say  nothing  yesterday  about  getting 
biscuits,  did  you?  Still,  it's  only  at  the  corner;  I 
daresay  I  can  run  out  for  you  directly!  Anything  you 
want  to  be  comfortable,  that's  it — you've  only  got  to 
say !  What  would  you  like — an  arrowroot  ?  " 

"  Any  kind  will  do,  thank  you — whatever  they 
keep.  Oh,  and  Mrs.  Purdie,  I  should  like  some  towels, 
please.  Don't  take  them  up  now — you  might  wake 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  259 

him.  I'll  take  them  myself  when  I  go  to  bed,  if  you'll 
give  them  to  me." 

"  There's  a  towel  up  there,"  said  the  woman,  star- 
ing. "  You  don't  want  another,  do  you?  " 

"Why,  yes!  One  towel  between  Baby  and  me 
isn't  very  convenient." 

"  Well,  I  dunno!  "  She  considered.  "  Mrs.  Wright 
says  that  one  towel  to  each  room  is  all  that  can  be 
expected.  It's  all  Mrs.  Wright's  in  the  'abit  of  giving, 
and  site's  been  letting  this  ten  years.  .  .  .  Well,  then, 
what's  the  odds?  You  shall  have  another!  Have  it, 
my  dear,  and  feel  at  'ome!  Now,  don't  leave  the  steak 
like  that — you  draw  up  and  make  a  good  supper,  do!" 

But  she  couldn't  look  at  the  steak,  and  the  grocer's 
was  shut,  so  she  supped  on  bread  and  what  was  called 
"  butter."  Sounds  indicated  that  Mrs.  Purdie  and  the 
anaemic  children  supped  about  ten  o'clock  on  the  con- 
tents of  a  tin.  The  typical  Englishwoman  of  the  lower 
middle  class  is  the  stupidest  thing  on  two  legs;  she 
spends  her  life  in  a  kitchen  without  learning  the  rudi- 
ments of  cookery,  and  she  has  a  baby  every  year 
without  learning  the  first  rules  for  rearing  a  child. 

"  Ducksums,"  said  Betty  next  day,  after  uneatable 
bacon,  "  this  place  is  impossible.  We've  made  a  blun- 
der, and  the  sooner  we  recognise  it  the  better.  Never 
waste  time,  Richard — we  don't  get  much.  That's  a 
motto  from  your  American  mother!  What  we  have 


a6o  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

to  decide  is  how  we're  to  find  other  rooms.  I  can't 
leave  you  behind,  and  your  carriage  is  no  good  with- 
out a  girl  to  wheel  it — and  you  can't  travel  around 
the  county  on  my  back.  My  son,  take  your  soother 
out  of  your  mouth,  and  attend  to  business!  " 

"  Momma!  "  said  the  baby.  It  was  his  vocabulary. 

"  That's  so — it's  for  momma  to  do!  Well,  we'll  go 
to  the  first  store  that  sells  newspapers,  and  see  what 
the  advertisements  have  to  tell  us.  We'll  rest  on  the 
seats  if  momma's  arms  get  tired." 

But  the  local  paper  was  exhibited  among  the 
baskets  of  boots  and  condensed  milk  at  the  corner, 
so  there  was  no  need  to  rest  with  him  on  a  seat. 

She  unpacked  her  writing-case  and  some  of  his  toys, 
and  forced  up  the  window  as  high  as  it  would  go;  and 
put  the  bed  pillows  on  the  linoleum  floor,  for  him  to 
play  upon.  (The  horse-hair  couch  boasted  only  a 
horse-hair  bolster.)  When  he  consented  to  spare  her, 
she  spread  the  newspaper  on  the  scarlet  tablecover, 
and  studied  the  Apartments  column. 

Eureka!  One  advertisement  had  been  framed  to 
meet  her  wants. 

"  Quaint,  attractive  sitting-room  and  bedroom, 
with  attendance  (silent)  offered  in  farmhouse,  at 
nominal  terms.  Pure  air,  exquisite  scenery.  Peace 
within  and  without. — J.  M.,  Mulberry  Farm,  Ather- 
all,  near  Hammick,  Tunbridge  Wells." 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  261 

She  wrote  to  "  J.  M."  eagerly,  and  carried  "  Duck- 
sums  "  to  the  pillar  box. 

During  the  next  two  days  he  took  the  air  on  the 
nearest  bench,  and  her  mainstay  was  new-laid  eggs, 
which  a  tradesman  "  obliged  her  with."  Then  came 
a  reply  signed  "John  Mellish."  Mr.  Mellish  stated 
that  the  rent  would  be  fifteen  shillings  a  week — "  un- 
distorted;  I  have  acquired  no  skill  in  vitiating  my 
agreements  by  the  addition  of  '  Extras.'  "  He  did 
not  keep  a  maidservant,  but  his  niece  acted  for  him 
as  working  housekeeper.  If  Mrs.  Keith  would  gra- 
ciously make  an  appointment  to  view  the  rooms,  a 
trap  should  meet  her  at  Hammick  Station. 

So  she  made  an  appointment.  And  she  had  to  hire 
a  fly  from  the  Unicorn  for  two  shillings  to  take  her 
and  "  Ducksums  "  into  Tunbridge  Wells.  But  on  the 
Hammick  platform  was  Mr.  Mellish. 

"Mrs.  Keith?" 

She  saw  a  spare  man,  with  a  shock  of  silver  hair 
and  a  threadbare  velveteen  jacket.  As  he  swept  off 
his  hat,  his  finger-nails  testified  that  his  labour  on 
the  farm  was  practical;  but  the  clean-shaved,  ascetic 
face  suggested  the  study,  not  the  soil. 

"I  have  to  apologise," he  said,  lifting  the  baby  into 
the  trap,  "  for  my  niece's  absence — she  was  sum- 
moned to  town  to-day.  But  I  have  done  my  best;  a 
friend  of  ours,  a  lady  from  Crowborough,  will  show 


262  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

you  over  the  place.  And  my  niece  returns  to-night, 
so  the  rooms  would  be  available  whenever  you  cared 
to  come." 

"  I'd  like  to  come  to-morrow,  if  I  come  at  all,"  said 
Betty.  "  I'm  sorry  to  hear  I  can't  see  your  niece, 
though;  so  much  depends  on  the— I  shall  be  so  much 
dependent  on  her." 

"  You'll  find  her  a  very  tactful  and  willing  woman, 
I  assure  you.  If  you  speak  to  her,  she  will  answer 
intelligently;  if  you  don't  address  her,  she  will  be 
quiet.  You  may  think  I  am  exaggerating,  if  you  have 
had  any  lengthy  experience  of  apartments,  but  my 
niece  can  positively  clear  your  dinner  table  without 
jarring  your  nerves." 

"  It  sounds  very  nice,"  she  said.  "  I  hope  my  little 
son  won't  make  too  much  noise  for  your  own 
nerves." 

"  Ah,"  said  Mr.  Mellish — his  gestures  were  courtly 
— "  I  was  alluding  to  *  noise  ' — a  child's  voice  is 
music.  That  reminds  me!  I  must  warn  you  that  I 
sometimes  play  in  the  evening;  the  piano,  which  is  a 
poor  thing,  would  be  audible  in  your  room.  I  don't 
know  if  you  would  object  to  that?" 

"  Oh,  a  piano  wouldn't  disturb  me  at  all." 

"  I  am  so  relieved.  Not  that  I  play  often;  I  have 
no  time.  Nor,  for  that  matter,  have  I  any  gift — as  an 
instrumentalist."  He  waited  for  her  to  ask  a  ques- 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  263 

tion,  but  as  she  didn't,  he  added,  "  I  simply  strum 
my  compositions  for  my  own  pleasure;  I  seldom  pre- 
sume to  mar  the  work  of  other  men." 

"You  compose?"  she  exclaimed.  "Now  is  that 
so?  That  is  very  interesting." 

"  Oh !  "  Having  dragged  the  fact  in,  his  gesture 
dismissed  it  as  beneath  mention.  He  descanted  on 
music  in  general.  There  was  apparently  no  composer 
living,  or  dead,  in  whose  work  he  was  not  steeped. 
He  condemned,  he  extolled,  he  advanced  new  and — 
he  informed  her — "  revolutionary "  theories.  How 
much  of  his  oration  was  brilliance,  and  how  much  of 
it  sheer  eccentricity,  she  was  unable  to  judge;  but  if 
the  boy  had  not  become  restive  before  they  reached 
the  house,  she  would  have  thought  it  worth  while 
taking  the  journey  merely  to  meet  so  remarkable  a 
farmer. 

And,  compared  with  the  scarlet  tablecover  and  the 
horse-hair  couch,  the  rooms  were  ideal.  A  little  shab- 
bier than  she  had  expected,  perhaps,  but  relatively  a 
discovery  and  a  joy.  She  wished  that  she  were  in- 
stalled in  them  already  while  the  visitor  was  showing 
them  to  her.  And  afterwards  Mr.  Mellish  gave  them 
tea,  and  heated  some  milk  for  the  baby — a  distin- 
guished figure,  entering  in  the  velveteen  jacket,  with 
the  saucepan.  It  was  very  restful  at  tea;  it  was  blessed 
to  feel  that  her  escape  from  Fuchsia  Terrace  was 


264  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

planned.  Her  thankfulness  was  deep,  in  the  basket- 
chair  overlooking  the  orchard. 

"Then  it  is  understood?"  he  asked,  during  the 
drive  back;  "  we  may  expect  you  to-morrow — or 
shall  we  say  '  Saturday  '?  " 

"  Well,  I'm  anxious  to  get  out  my  present  place 
immediately,  Mr.  Mellish !  Still,  if  to-morrow  wouldn't 
be  convenient  to  you " 

"  I've  been  thinking  that  another  day  would  give  my 
niece  more  time  to  have  everything  in  order  for  you," 
he  explained,  "  that  is  all."  Yet  he  seemed  anxious 
that  she  should  agree  to  Saturday,  so  she  did  so. 

He  begged  her  to  let  them  have  a  postcard,  that 
the  trap  might  be  waiting.  He  murmured  final  hopes 
that  she  would  be  very  comfortable,  and  went  with  her 
into  the  station.  She  had  only  "  taken  apartments." 
It  sounded  a  trivial  thing — it  would  have  sounded 
trivial  to  herself  the  previous  week — but  the  woman 
who  foresaw  a  long  year  in  apartments  hugged  her 
baby  close,  as  the  train  started,  and  thanked  Heaven 
to  have  "  found  a  home." 

Mrs.  Purdie  was  incapable  of  crediting  the  news. 
That  the  lady— or  any  other  lady — could  wish  to 
leave  her,  she  regarded  as  impossible. 

"  I  am  going,"  repeated  Betty,  "  that  is  all  I  have 
to  say.  You  have  had  my  notice." 

"  Now  don't  you  talk  nonsense,  my  dear! "  said 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  265 

Mrs.  Purdie,  emphatically  cheerful.  "  You'll  be  all 
right  when  you've  shaken  down,  don't  you  worry 
about  that  I  " 

And  if  misgivings  assailed  her  later,  she  hid  them 
with  rare  art.  Her  buoyancy  did  not  desert  her  till 
that  wet  Saturday  morning,  when  the  cot  was  again 
sewn  in  its  canvas  wrappings,  and  she  had  been  into 
the  bedroom  and  beheld  the  trunks  strapped.  Then 
she  complained. 

She  said,  "  You  know  you  took  the  rooms  telling 
me  you  were  going  to  be  here  for  months.  I  expected 
to  have  you  right  through  the  summer,  you  know!  " 

"  Well,  you  can't  expect  me  to  stay  if  I  don't  want 
to?  I  didn't  pledge  myself  to  stay  a  day  longer  than 
it  suited  me,  did  I?  " 

"  I  don't  know  nothing  about  that,"  said  Mrs. 
Purdie.  "  Mrs.  Wright  says  it's  a  '  very  'eavy  loss, 
and  you  ought  to  make  it  up  to  me  ' — she  says  she 
never  heard  the  like!  Mrs.  Wright  says  I  ought  to 
'ave  four  months'  money  off  you." 

"  Well,  you  can  tell  Mrs.  Wright  you  didn't  get 
it,"  said  Betty. 

"  Oh,  well !  "  She  produced  the  bill.  "  Come  on, 
there  you  are!  I've  charged  you  a  week's  money,  in- 
stead of  notice — you  can't  grumble  at  that,  can  you? 
I  don't  suppose  you  can  afford  to  pay  no  more?  " 

"  That's  so,"  said  Betty,  "  I  can't  afford  to  pay  so 


266  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

much.  But  I  know  that's  just.  There's  a  pen,  Mrs. 

Purdie — will  you  kindly  give  me  a  receipt?  " 

And  then  the  cab  from  the  Unicorn  ground  on  the 
pebbles,  and  the  trunks  were  bumped  down  the  nar- 
row stairs. 

The  rain  pelted,  and  the  "  changes  "  to-day  were 
numerous,  and  the  porters  were  dolts.  But  though 
she  missed  the  nurse  in  every  moment,  she  was  not 
discouraged.  She  was  bound  for  the  quaint,  attractive 
rooms,  and  the  tactful  woman,  and  the  silent  service! 
"With  an  orchard,  Ducksums!"  she  said.  "Think 
of  the  orchard  when  the  sun  shines!  " 

The  sight  of  Mr.  Mellish  was  as  welcome  as  if  he 
had  been  an  old  friend. 

"  We've  got  here  at  last! "  she  exclaimed.  "  How 
d'ye  do?  " 

But  somehow  Mr.  Mellish  was  less  enthusiastic  now. 

"I  am  sorry,"  he  said,  clearing  his  throat,  "to  have 
to  tell  you,  Mrs.  Keith,  that  unfortunately  there  has 
been  a  little  difficulty  since  I  had  your  card— quite 
a  temporary  difficulty,  a  hitch!  My  niece  has  been 
delayed  in  town." 

She  stood  staring  at  him  on  the  wet  platform,  with 
the  baby  in  her  arms,  and  the  trunks,  and  the  bassin- 
ette, and  the  perambulator  strewn  round  her. 

"  Well,  it  was  your  duty  to  telegraph  to  me!  "  she 
cried.  "  What  do  you  imagine  I  am  going  to  do, 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  267 

arriving  at  the  edge  of  the  world,  with  nowhere  to 

go?" 

"  I  have  arranged  for  that,  I  have  arranged  for 
that,"  he  said  hurriedly.  "  I  have  taken  rooms  for 
you  in  the  meanwhile — just  for  a  week.  I  am  sure, 
for  a  week,  you  won't  mind  putting  up  with  them? 
Pear  Cottage  is  primitive,  but  you  will  find  the  peo- 
ple very  kindly,  very  kindly,  and  you'll  pay  only 
twelve  shillings  there.  They  quite  understand  the  po- 
sition; I  have  explained." 

"  Oh!  "  It  was  a  relief  to  learn  that  there  would 
be  a  roof  to  shelter  her.  "  Well,  please  give  the  ad- 
dress to  the  porter — I  don't  think  all  these  things 
will  go  in  the  trap." 

She  persuaded  the  porter  to  follow  at  once,  but 
she  was  very  disappointed  and  very  vexed;  and  as 
Mr.  Mellish  touched  up  the  mare,  she  said,  "  Can  you 
assure  me  that  it  will  be  only  for  a  week?  I  can't  un- 
dertake to  wait  indefinitely." 

"  A  week  precisely!  "  he  declared.  "  To-day  week  the 
rooms  '11  be  vacant  again,  and  she'll  have  come  back." 

"  Oh?  "  said  Betty.  "  You  have  let  the  rooms  to 
somebody  else,  then,  after  letting  them  to  me?  " 

He  looked  embarrassed. 

"Just  for  a  week!"  he  admitted.  "Because  my 
niece  could  not  return — merely  for  that  reason.  The 
present  occupants  are  a  gentleman  and  his  wife — 


268  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

to  them  her  absence  is  no '  drawback.  To  you,  of 
course,  it  is — er — necessary  that  a  woman  should  be 
living  on  the  premises.  So,  in  the  meantime,  having 
this  offer — quite  unexpectedly — I  let  the  rooms." 

She  suspected  that  he  had  let  them  because  the 
gentleman  and  his  wife  were  more  profitable,  but  he 
was  so  extremely  courteous,  and  so  highly  talented, 
that  she  was  reluctant  to  think  ill  of  him. 

She  was  reluctant  to  think  ill  of  him  even  when  she 
saw  the  make-shift.  Opposite  the  farm  gate,  across  a 
patch  of  ragged  grass,  a  little  dilapidated  cottage 
dripped  among  vegetables.  The  broken  path  was  a 
rivulet;  the  door  opened  into  a  kitchen;  its  floor  was 
bricks. 

"  Where  is  the  parlour?  "  she  asked.  But  it  was  a 
reproach  rather  than  a  query;  already  she  knew  that 
there  was  no  parlour. 

"  You  will  have  this  practically  to  yourself,"  he 
said  deprecatingly.  "  The  accommodation  is  very 
limited  in  Atherall,  of  course,  or  I  would  have  done 
better  for  you.  But  during  the  week  you  will  have 
this  practically  to  yourself — the  Duplocks  will  leave 
it  to  you  as  much  as  possible.  I  expect  Mrs.  Duplock 
is  busy  at  the  back  with  the  poultry — if  you  will  ex- 
cuse me,  I'll  call  her  in!  " 

She  came  in  as  he  spoke,  a  gaunt,  hard-featured 
woman,  weather-beaten,  and  bowed  with  outdoor  toil. 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  269 

"  'Afternoon,  sir!  " 

"  This  is  the  lady,  Mrs.  Duplock." 

"  'Afternoon,  marm! " 

"  I've  told  Mrs.  Keith  that  you  will  make  her  as 
comfortable  as  you  can  while  she's  with  you.  They 
are  bringing  her  luggage  up.  Oh  " — he  turned  to 
Betty — "  Saturday  is  a  bad  day  for  meat  in  the  vil- 
lage; will  you  allow  me  to  send  you  in  one  of  my 
fowls  for  dinner  to-morrow?  And  I  have  a  modest 
library — if  you  will  let  me  lend  you  some  books,  they 
might  help  to  pass  your  time." 

"  Thank  you  very  much,"  she  murmured,  "  it's 
very  kind  of  you.  Perhaps  Mrs.  Duplock  will  show 
me  my  room?  I  want  to  change  my  child's  clothes 
directly  the  things  come — I'm  afraid  of  his  taking 
cold." 

"  Then  I'll  leave  you  now.  But  if  there's  anything 
more  I  can  do  to — to  repair  the  unfortunate  occur- 
rence, pray  give  me  the  privilege!  Mrs.  Duplock  will 
come  across  at  any  moment  that  you  wish  to  send  to 
me,  I'm  sure." 

"  Thank  you  very  much,"  she  said  again,  and  Mrs. 
Duplock  led  the  way  to  a  bedroom. 

"  This  bean't  the  one  for  you  and  the  little  'un," 
she  said,  with  a  broad  drawl,  "  this  be  mine  and  my 
husband's."  A  second  door,  with  a  bobbin  latch, 
opened  out  of  it.  "This  be  yours!" 


270  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

"Oh!"  faltered  Betty.  "I  have  to  pass  through 
your  room  to  go  to  my  own?  " 

"  Yes,  but  we  shan't  mind,  because  we  shan't  be 
here;  we're  up  before  five  in  the  mornings.  And  I 
expect  you  go  to  bed  betimes?  " 

"  What  do  you  call  '  betimes  '?  "  She  was  tearing 
off  the  damp  pelisse. 

"  Well,  I  suppose  you  won't  be  later  than  a  quarter 
to  nine?  "  A  four-poster  nearly  monopolised  the  floor, 
and  she  thumped  the  mountainous  bedding  with  a 
proud  fist.  "  You'll  lay  on  two  of  the  finest  feather 
beds  in  the  village,  marm!  They  was  my  mother's 
before  me.  And  her  mother's  before  that.  More  than 
thirty  children  have  been  born  on  this  bed.  And  nine 
folks  have  been  laid  out  on  it." 

When  the  porter  arrived,  the  trunks  couldn't  be 
coaxed  up  the  staircase,  so  Betty  unpacked  neces- 
saries in  the  kitchen.  A  wood  fire  burnt  there  cheer- 
fully. She  cut  the  stitches  in  the  canvas  wrapping  with 
a  knife  that  she  found  in  the  scullery,  and  aired  the 
baby's  sheets  and  blankets  before  the  blaze.  Mrs.  Du- 
plock  helped  her  to  carry  the  bassinette,  and  to  erect 
it  between  the  historic  bed  and  a  box,  which  served 
for  a  wardrobe  and  a  chest  of  drawers. 

It  was  a  very  grubby  Betty  who  washed  at  an 
elementary  wash-stand,  with  mottled  soap. 

Tea  was  sustaining,  and  "  Ducksums  "  evinced  a 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  271 

lively  interest  in  the  chickens  that  ran  about  the 
kitchen.  At  last,  when  she  had  put  him  into  his  little 
night-shirt,  she  went  down  to  the  fire  again,  and  was 
invited  to  the  wooden  arm-chair  with  a  chintz  cush- 
ion. She  put  her  feet  on  the  fender,  and  wondered  at 
being  there.  Dusk  gathered.  The  cabbages  through  the 
window  silvered,  and  grew  vague.  Mrs.  Duplock 
lit  a  feeble  lamp,  and  ironed  some  washing  on  the 
table.  Her  husband  came  in  heavily — even  gaunter 
than  she,  older,  still  more  weather-beaten — bent 
double  beneath  a  load.  He  pulled  off  his  cap  first,  and 
slid  the  barley-meal  to  the  ground.  It  struck  the 
bricks  with  a  thud  that  told  its  weight. 

"'Evening,  marm!"  His  trembling  hand  wiped 
the  sweat  from  his  forehead. 

"  Good-evening,  Mr.  Duplock,"  she  said. 

"  I'm  doo-ing  your  shirt,  Joe,"  said  the  woman. 

"  So  I  se-e." 

He  said  no  more.  He  sat  on  a  chair  just  inside  the 
door,  and  unlaced  his  boots.  Betty  felt  that  her  pres- 
ence constrained  him;  it  occurred  to  her,  with  new 
pity,  that  the  kitchen  was  these  people's  home,  and 
that  the  inconvenience  was  not  hers  alone.  But  that 
eggs  were  to  be  boiled  soon  for  her  supper,  she 
would  have  gone  to  bed  at  once. 

Still  the  pair  were  dumb.  She  stole  another  glance 
at  him,  and  then — it  was  the  weary  resignation  of  his 


272  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

legs — she  knew  that  timidity  was  not  his  only  trou- 
ble. She  realised  that  the  man  was  dog-tired  from 
his  shoulders  to  his  feet,  and  that  she  was  in  his 
chair. 

"Why,  Mr.  Duplock,  I  beg  your  pardon!"  she 
exclaimed,  rising.  "  Please  go  and  sit  there !  " 

He  looked  at  her,  abashed. 

"  I  wouldn't  think  of  it,  marm." 

"  But  it's  your  place,  you  know  it  is." 

He  stammered.  "  As  to  that " 

"  You  go  and  sit  there  right  away,"  she  said, 
"  where  you  can  be  comfortable!  " 

They  changed  seats — the  man  sheepish,  tongue- 
tied — and  his  wife  turned  her  grey  head  an  instant 
from  her  ironing. 

Away  over  the  fields  a  clock  chimed  nine  as  Betty 
undressed  in  the  room  without  a  wardrobe,  or  a  chest 
of  drawers,  or  a  key.  But  "  Ducksums  "  was  sleeping 
like  a  top,  and  after  she  had  blown  out  the  candle, 
almost  the  next  thing  she  knew  was  that  she  had 
slept  sound  herself. 

When  she  was  called,  the  sky  was  fair,  and  the 
Duplocks  had  long  since  breakfasted.  After  they 
came  back  from  church,  she  sat  down  to  dinner  with 
them.  No  reference  was  made  to  the  arrangement, 
but  the  social  barrier  that  the  cottagers  had  drawn 
across  their  kitchen  table  left  them  little  space  to 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  273 

move.  For  them  and  their  boiled  bacon  and  cabbage, 
one  narrow  end;  for  the  gentry  and  the  fowl,  the  rest! 

Betty  said,  "  Why,  I  think  some  of  this  fowl  would 
go  very  well  with  your  bacon,  Mrs.  Duplock, 
wouldn't  it?" 

"  Oh,  well,  then,"  said  Mrs.  Duplock,  "  you  must 
accept  a  bit  of  our  bacon  with  your  fowl." 

But  Mr.  Mellish's  offering  proved  to  be  so  tough 
that  it  was  no  good  to  anybody,  and  Betty  dined  on 
bacon  and  cabbage. 

"I'm  glad  I  'invited 'you  before  I  began  to  carve!" 
she  laughed;  "I  didn't  know  we  couldn't  eat  it,  did  I?" 

"  As  if  such  a  lady  as  you-u  would  do  a  thing  like 
that!"  said  Mr.  Duplock  devoutly.  They  were  the 
only  words  he  had  spoken  since  he  asked  a  blessing. 

She  found  the  three-pronged  fork  difficult  to  use, 
and  tried  hard  not  to  mortify  them  by  awkwardness. 
Her  host  and  hostess  were  extremely  cramped,  and 
they  tried,  with  fine  courtesy,  to  conceal  their  dis- 
comfort. 

She  began  to  respect  the  Duplocks.  She  proceeded 
to  like  them.  It  was  in  a  very  deprecatory  voice  that 
she  said  on  Tuesday  morning  to  the  woman — 

"Mrs. Duplock, Baby  is  being  eaten  up — the  room 
must  be  in  a  terrible  state.  I'm  sure  you  don't  know 
it!" 

"  Oh,  there  now!"  said  Mrs.  Duplock,  "the  poor 


274  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

lamb!  But,  marm,  they  come  from  the  chickens — 

it  bean't  what  you  think;  indeed  it  bean't!  " 

"  I  don't  think  it's — it's  what  I  think  if  you  tell  me 
it  isn't!  "  said  Betty.  "  But  he's  been  tearing  himself 
to  pieces  all  night.  I  don't  know  what  I'm  to  do !  " 

"  Of  course  this  is  not  right  for  you,  I  know  it 
ain't!  But  don't  think  there's  any  want  o'  soap-and- 
water  in  the  place,  marm,  I  kearn't  bear  you  to  think 
that — it's  all  them  chickens!  And  I'm  going  to  get 
something  off  my  mi-ind!  "  She  was  peeling  potatoes 
outside  the  window,  and  she  banged  the  knife  handle 
on  the  sill.  "  I'd  no  right  to  've  asked  twelve  shillings 
from  you — and  what's  more,  I  bean't  going  to  take 
it!  But  he  told  me  you  was  a  lady  who'd  pay  any- 
thing I  asked." 

"  What?  Mr.  Mellish  told  you  that?  " 
"  Yes.  It's  not  fit  for  you — if  I'd  known  the  sort 
you  was,  I  dursen't  have  took  you.  All  we  take  is 
holiday  children." 

"  Don't  they  object  to  the — the  chickens?  " 
"  Lor'  bless  you,  they've  got  worse  than  that  where 
they  come  from!  That's  all  we  take — holiday  chil- 
dren for  five  shillings,  and  we  feed  'em  for  it  besides. 
I  do  feel  ashamed  of  having  imposed  on  you — I  don't 
forget  how  you  gave  up  his  chair  to  my  old  man 
when  he  come  in  tired!  You  go  down  to  the  village 
and  get  a  lotion  for  the  little  'un — I'll  watch  'im 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  275 

while  you're  gone,  as  safe  as  if  he  was  my  own.  It's 
all  them  chickens,  marm,  but  how  you're  to  put  up 
with  it  for  a  fortnight,  I  dunno!  " 

"Only  for  a  week,  Mrs.  Duplock,  not  a  fortnight!" 

"  Mr.  Mellish,  he  told  us  you'd  be  here  for  a  fort- 
night." 

"Oh,  did  he?"  said  Betty,  her  eyes  darkening. 
"  I  didn't  know,  that's  news  to  me!  Well,  I'll  be  very 
glad  to  accept  your  offer." 

As  she  crossed  the  road,  he  came  out  to  greet  her. 
She  had  not  seen  him  since  her  arrival,  so  subduing 
her  temper,  she  began  very  formally — 

"  I  have  to  thank  you  for  the  book  you  sent  across, 
Mr.  Mellish — and  for  the  fowl." 

"  Oh,"  his  gesture  was  airy,  "  a  trifle,  nothing — 
three  and  sixpence!  I'm  glad  to  see  you,  Mrs.  Keith 
— I  have  to  plead  for  your  forbearance.  The  people 
with  me  have  just  asked  to  stay  for  another  week. 
Naturally,  the  terms  I  am  receiving  from  them  are 
higher  than  those  I  asked  from  you.  Now,  will  you 
convenience  me  by  remaining  at  the  cottage  for  one 
week  longer?  " 

"  I  am  sorry,"  she  said,  "  but  I  do  not  find  it  a  fair 
proposal." 

"  Oh,  you  mustn't  say  that,"  he  exclaimed.  "  I  am 
not  accustomed  to  be  told  I  am  unfair!  I  presume 
I  have  the  right  to  let  my  own  apartments  to  the  best 


276  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

advantage?  In  any  case,"  the  gestures  were  more 
vehement,  "  my  niece  cannot  be  with  me  till  then, 
so  I  can't  receive  you  till  then.  I  must  ask  you  to 
wait  till  Saturday  week.  Our  arrangement  has  de- 
pended on  my  niece's  return — I  must  hold  you  to  our 
arrangement!  " 

There  was  the  contingency  of  her  being  unable  to 
find  any  other  rooms  sooner — the  risk  that  plain 
speaking  might  condemn  her  to  the  chickens  for  a 
longer  term  still.  She  recognised  it,  wrathful  as  she 
was — and  decided  to  keep  the  farm  door  open  till 
she  was  in  a  position  to  slam  it. 

"  W-e-11,  it'll  be  rather  inconvenient  for  me,"  she 
murmured,  assuming  weakness. 

He  took  leave  of  her,  vain  of  his  mastery. 

"  Mrs.  Duplock,"  she  volleyed,  when  she  went  in 
with  the  lotion,  "  I  don't  go  to  the  farm,  for  five 
minutes,  if  I  can  help  myself.  But  I  can't  stay  here. 
Now  I  want  somewhere  to  live — and  you  must  find  it 
for  me.  Nothing  on  this  earth  will  drive  me  into  that 
man's  house  except  the  chickens  at  the  last  moment!" 

Mrs.  Duplock  had  never  heard  an  American  at  high 
speed  before;  she  looked  breathless. 

"  Well,  I  haven't  liked  to  speak,  marm,"  she  said, 
"  but  Mr.  Mellish  bean't  liked  in  the  village — he  do 
some  rare  shabby  things." 

"  Where's  his  niece?  Is  there  a  niece  at  all?  " 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  277 

"  Yes,  he's  got  a  niece,  but  she  hasn't  been  here  for 
four  months."  She  added  impartially,  "  Maybe  he  has 
hopes  to  get  her  back,  you  know !  " 

"  Mrs.  Duplock,  what  am  I  to  do  ?  I  must  have  other 
rooms.  Where  am  I  to  go?  I  don't  know  how  to  find 
them.  You  don't  know  how  hard  it  is  to  find  lodgings 
to  live  in.  I  feel  as  if  I  had  been  travelling  round  Kent 
for  years !  '* 

"  You  poor  lamb !  "  said  Mrs.  Duplock,  "  begging 
your  pardon !  But  there  be  nothing  fit  for  you  in  Ath- 
erall — you'd  best  go  to  Hammick." 

"  Can  you  tell  me  of  anything  there?  " 

"  I  dunno  no  one  I  could  exactly  recommend  you  to 
in  Hammick.  If  it  had  been  Rusthall  now,  I  could  have 
told  you  of  a  ni-ice  place.  But  I  suppose  Rusthall's  too 
far  for  you?  " 

"  Why,  Rusthall  is  what  I'd  like  best ;  that's  where 
I've  come  from!  But  I  didn't  see  any  '  nice  place.' ' 

"  I've  heard  of  ladies  being  very  satisfied  at  Mrs. 
Hyder's.  And  I'm  told  you  get  what  you  pay  for  with 
her." 

"  Is  she  dear  ?  "  asked  Betty.  "  I  can't  afford  more 
than  fifteen  shillings  a  week." 

"  Well,  I  can't  say.  I  expect  Mrs.  Hyder'd  want  a 
tidy  sum.  If  you'd  like  to  go  and  see  it,  and  don't  want 
to  take  the  little  'un  so  far,  I  can  do  with  'im.  It's  the 
'ouse  in  the  'ollow,  agen  the  poplars." 


278  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

And  when  she  had  interviewed  Mrs.  Hyder,  Betty 
was  confident  of  being  comfortable  there.  Her  relief 
had  been  intense  when  Mrs.  Hyder  abated  a  half-crown 
and  said,  "  Well,  for  such  a  long  while,  we'll  say  fif- 
teen shillings,  then !  "  The  sitting-room  was  tiny — the 
ground-floor  "  drawing-room  "  was  already  let,  and 
for  double  the  terms — and  she  overlooked  the  kitchen 
garden,  instead  of  the  lawn.  But  the  window  opened 
on  to  a  ladder  staircase,  and  below  there  was  a  little 
red  path,  just  wide  enough  for  one,  dividing  the 
vegetables  from  the  pink  and  white  apple  and  plum 
trees. 

She  returned  to  the  cottage  rejoicing.  This  time, 
Mrs.  Duplock  stitched  the  cot  in  the  canvas.  Mrs.  Du- 
plock  said  her  "  old  man  would  drive  the  lady  to  the 
station  in  their  cart  on  the  morrow."  Mrs.  Duplock 
received  the  fortnight's  rent  that  she  had  been  led  to 
expect — and  cried  when  she  took  it. 

"  It  don't  seem  right,"  she  quavered,  "  it  don't  in- 
deed! But  it'd  be  going  agen  Providence  to  refuse 
twelve  shillings,  wouldn't  it,  when  you're  that  good  as 
to  offer  it?  Us  with  another  bird  dead  only  last 
night !  "  Two  large  tears  trickled  down  her  bony  nose. 
"  Me  and  Duplock  be  going  to  see  you  safe  into  the 
train,  marm.  We've  been  talking  of  it  over — when  Mr. 
Mellish  hears  what  you  mean  to  do,  I  dunno  what  he'll 
say,  I'm  su-ure !  " 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  279 

And,  their  work  sacrificed,  the  couple  appeared  next 
morning  as  a  bodyguard.  The  man  had  put  on  a  jacket. 
The  woman  wore  her  best  clothes,  to  sit  beside  the 
"  gentry."  A  pink  rose  brightened  the  antique  bonnet; 
the  watchful,  hard-featured  face  was  framed  in  rib- 
bons of  the  ancient  brown  which  Fashion's  wheel  was 
to  make  chic  a  few  months  later. 

Not  till  the  cart  was  at  the  door  did  Betty  announce 
her  intention  to  Mr.  Mellish.  He  was  grooming  his 
mare  as  she  crossed  the  road,  and  she  called  to  him 
over  the  gate. 

"  I  have  brought  the  book  you  kindly  lent  me,"  she 
said,  when  he  came  out,  "  and  the  three  and  sixpence. 
I  have  to  wish  you  '  good-day.'  I  am  just  going." 

He  looked  beyond  her  to  the  cart,  and  gasped — an 
excited  figure  on  the  ragged  grass  plot.  The  book  fell. 

"  Going?  What  do  you  mean ?  "  he  stuttered.  "  You 
can't  go;  you  mustn't  leave  me  in  the  lurch  like  this! 
What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  It's  very  simple ;  I  mean  I  have  taken  other  apart- 
ments." 

Oh,  ho,  ho !  "  he  said  violently.  "  We  shall  soon  see 
if  it's  so  simple!  You'll  find  it's  not  so  simple  as  you 
think.  You  have  engaged  my  rooms.  I  don't  allow  you 
to  break  a  contract.  I  have  my  claim !  " 

The  Duplocks  stood  close  at  hand,  apprehensive  and 
alert,  the  woman  holding  the  baby. 


280  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

"  Will  you  please  put  the  baggage  in,  Mr.  Du- 
plock  ?  "  said  Betty,  turning. 

"  You  are  not  going !  "  declaimed  Mr.  Mellish,  with 
dramatic  gesticulation.  "  Even  at  this  eleventh  hour, 
madam,  you  do  not  go !  The  rooms  have  been  reserved 
at  your  request;  I'm  a  man  of  business,  I'll  have  my 
rights,  I'll  not  be  robbed !  " 

His  gestures  were  so  uncontrolled  that  for  a  moment 
she  lost  her  nerve  and  was  mute.  Then  she  threw  up 
her  chin  and  fronted  him  steadily. 

"  Mr.  Mellish,"  she  said,  "  when  you  have  done 
screaming,  let  us  understand  each  other !  You  let  your 
rooms  to  me  by  a  falsehood  about  your  niece.  And  you 
delayed  me  till  Saturday  because  you  had  a  chance 
of  doing  better  in  the  meantime.  And  when  the  other 
chance  came  off,  you  asked  me  to  wait  your  conveni- 
ence in  a  kitchen.  Do  you  imagine  I  have  arrived  here 
from  a  kindergarten  ?  " 

"  Oh,"  he  shouted,  "  they  may  be  common  people, 
but  they  will  do  all  they  can,  and " 

"  They  are  not  common  people,  they  are  much  su- 
perior to  you,  but  their  house  is  not  suitable." 

"  You  are  not  going !  "  he  stormed.  He  beat  his  fist 
on  his  palm  under  her  face.  "  Mark  that !  " 

"  There  is  just  one  thing  that  might  detain  me,"  she 
said  through  her  teeth.  "  If  the  hand  you  are  brandish- 
ing happens  to  touch  me,  I  shall  remain  to  give  you  in 


The  next  time  you  hope  to  cheat  a  woman  because  she  hasn't 
her  husband  with  her,  don't  choose  an  American! 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  281 

charge  of  the  village  policeman.  Now  out  of  my  way, 
Mr.  Mellish — and  the  next  time  you  hope  to  cheat  a 
woman  because  she  hasn't  her  husband  with  her,  don't 
choose  an  American !  " 

Then  she  climbed  on  to  the  plank  in  the  cart,  beside 
the  brown  bonnet  strings  and  the  rose.  And  Mrs.  Du- 
plock,  giving  "  Ducksums  "  to  her,  said,  "  Lor',  marm, 
there  was  one  moment  when  you  looked  as  if  you  was 
standing  up  dead !  " 


XXI 

IT  was  peaceful,  overlooking  the  plum  trees.  After 
Fuchsia  Terrace,  and  the  kitchen,  there  was  much  to 
be  said  for  the  abode.  She  surprised  herself  soon,  in 
this  tiny  room,  by  feeling  so  grateful  for  it.  "  Duck- 
sums  "  did  not  give  her  much  time  to  be  idle  during 
the  day,  and  there  was  no  piano  for  brief  respites,  nor 
were  there  books  for  the  evening.  But  the  red  path  by 
the  fruit  bloom  was  pleasant,  and  there  was  a  seat  near 
the  crocuses  on  the  little  lawn. 

Mrs.  Hyder  recommended  a  gawky  girl  in  a  pina- 
fore, from  the  vicinity  of  the  Toad  Rock,  to  push  the 
perambulator,  and  Betty  bought  a  new  sixpenny-half- 
penny hat  for  her,  and  walked  beside  her  twice  a  day 
over  the  common.  The  Happy  Valley  was  still  there — 
and  the  favourite  nook  was  again  favoured.  The  girl 
and  "  Ducksums  "  didn't  see  them,  but  the  spot  where 
they  sat  was  full  of  memories.  Last  time,  there  had 
been  no  "  Ducksums  "  ! 

Ignorant  of  such  reflections,  he  waved  his  hand  to  a 
far  meadow,  sprinkled  with  white  lambs. 

282 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  283 

In  this  new  life,  where  her  only  companions  were 
•her  baby  boy,  and  Queenie  from  the  Toad  Rock,  Betty 
found  herself  taking  an  interest  in  her  fellow-lodger. 
Attention  was  first  drawn  to  her  by  peals  of  laughter 
in  the  garden  between  five  and  six  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon, and  the  ladder  staircase  had  yielded  a  view  of 
a  young  girl  playing  hide-and-seek  with  a  child  about 
twelve  years  old.  Between  six  o'clock  and  seven,  how- 
ever, the  young  girl  was  discovered  to  be  a  very  pretty 
woman,  and  she  had  brought  out  a  work-basket  and 
was  mending  things.  The  absorption  with  which  she 
mended  things  was  so  great  a  change  from  the  merri- 
ment with  which  she  played  hide-and-seek,  that  Betty 
looked  at  her  astonished.  After  supper,  there  had  been 
another  glimpse  of  her,  through  the  drawing-room 
window — the  lamplight  showed  her,  with  a  furrowed 
brow,  nibbling  a  penholder  at  a  table  strewn  with 
papers. 

Curiosity  in  the  Chameleon  ascertained  that  she  was 
the  child's  mother,  and  "  an  authoress,"  and  that  her 
name  was  "  Mrs.  Norbury." 

Every  morning  Betty  saw  Mrs.  Norbury  leave  the 
house  with  her  little  daughter  swinging  a  school- 
satchel.  The  length  of  time  that  she  was  gone  sug- 
gested that  the  school  was  in  Tunbridge  Wells.  Every 
afternoon  she  went  out  to  bring  the  child  back,  and 
in  the  interval,  the  table  had  been  strewn  with  papers 


284  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

again.  Betty  observed  that  the  main  features  of  the 

programme  never  varied.  At  half-past  four,  a  music 

lesson.  From   five   to   six,    the   games.  From   six   to 

seven,  the  work-basket.  After  supper,  once  more  the 

pen! 

What  kind  of  woman  was  this,  who  lived  like  a  ma- 
chine, and  could  romp  like  a  young  girl? 

One  afternoon  "  Ducksums  "  introduced  them.  He 
was  learning  to  stand,  and  exaggerating  his  stability, 
and  Mrs.  Norbury  picked  him  off  the  daisies.  The  lit- 
tle girl,  it  transpired,  had  been  on  tiptoe  for  a  week  to 
"  know  the  baby,"  and  the  women  talked  while  they 
watched  them. 

"What  a  pretty  little  frock  that  is!"  remarked 
Betty. 

Mrs.  Norbury  beamed. 

"  Do  you  think  so,  really  ?  I  am  glad.  I  had  to  run 
it  up  for  her  in  a  couple  of  days." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  you  made  that  yourself?  " 

"  That  ?  Yes,  and  all  her  others  too !  I  make  every- 
thing she  wears — except  her  shoes  and  stockings." 

Betty  opened  amazed  eyes  at  her. 

"  Are  you  sure  you  quite  believe  me?  "  said  the  prod- 
igy, laughing. 

"  Why,  yes,  of  course !  "  laughed  Betty.  "  I  was  only 
wondering  what  your  frightful  fault  can  be." 

The  other  woman  looked  puzzled. 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  285 

"  You  seem  too  perfect  to  be  true !  " 

At  this,  the  prodigy  blushed  as  brightly  as  if  she  had 
been  seventeen. 

"  But  it's  so  simple  if  you  know  how,"  she  said. 
"  The  only  difficulty  is  to  find  the  time." 

"  Well,  so  I  should  say,  seeing  that  you  write  as 
well.  I  don't  know  how  you  do  so  much — I've  been 
wondering  ever  since  I  came." 

"  I've  really  got  it  easier  now  than  I've  ever  had  it 
before! — I  mean,  than  I've  ever  had  it  since  my  hus- 
band died.  I've  done  everything  for  Muriel  since  then, 
and  she  used  to  be  delicate." 

"  She's  all  right  now,  isn't  she?  " 

"  Oh  yes !  The  sea  air  and  the  country  have  done 
just  what  we  hoped — we  left  town  when  she  was  five. 
But  till  we  came  to  this  place,  she  was  only  allowed 
to  go  to  school  in  the  morning — I  had  scarcely  taken 
her  when  it  was  time  to  go  and  fetch  her.  That  was 
rather  whizzling.  You  see,  I  never  write  in  front  of 
her;  it'd  be  bad  for  the  work,  and — what's  more  im- 
portant still — it'd  be  bad  for  the  child,  to  have  a 
dummy  mother  driving  a  pen.  Besides,  I  have  to  bring 
her  up." 

"  But  she  "seems  such  a  good  little  thing — there  can't 
be  much  '  bringing  up  '  to  do  ?  " 

"  Good  ?  "  said  the  other,  in  a  deep,  hushed  voice — 
she  sounded  as  if  she  were  saying  prayers.  "  Yes ! 


286  THE   HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

She  makes  me  feel  ashamed  sometimes.  But  there's 
the  good  to  be  helped  along,  and  the  failings  to  be 
'  thrown  out  of  the  window.'  She  and  I  work  to- 
gether at  that.  We  '  throw  another  failing  out  of  the 
window  '  every  term !  "  The  smile  that  lit  her  face  was 
very  girlish. 

This  year,  the  English  climate  was  even  more  ec- 
centric than  usual,  but  when  the  sky  was  kind  and  the 
ground  was  dry,  the  women  met  nearly  every  after- 
noon in  the  play  hour.  Sometimes  Betty  joined  in  the 
games  and  romped  with  the  best.  And  when  the  Easter 
holidays  began,  she  often  took  Muriel  for  walks  with 
Queenie  and  "  Ducksums,"  and  left  the  mother  free 
at  the  table. 

By  the  time  the  hyacinths  and  tulips  came  up,  the 
women  were  good  friends.  Mrs.  Norbury,  it  seemed, 
always  sauntered  in  the  garden  for  ten  minutes  after 
her  evening's  work. 

"  Why  don't  you  come  out  too  ?  " 

"  I  don't  like  to  go  so  far  away  from  Baby,  in  case 
he  wakes." 

So,  in  future,  Mrs.  Norbury  always  sauntered  to  the 
kitchen  garden  instead,  and  they  generally  sat  and 
talked  on  the  ladder  staircase  under  the  open  window. 

Betty  learnt  that  her  pen  provided  her  only  income, 
and  that  she  had  ambitions,  and  no  prospect  of  ful- 
filling them. 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  287 

"  I  can't  afford  to  go  in  for  the  kind  of  work  I'd 
love,"  she  explained  once,  as  they  nibbled  chocolate 
on  the  steps  together ;  "  I  couldn't  educate  Muriel,  I 
couldn't  do  anything  by  it !  " 

"  Have  you  tried  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I've  had  two  little  plays  produced  in  London. 
The  second  one  did  me  a  lot  of  good,  so  far  as  kudos 
goes ;  all  the  best-known  dramatic  critics  gave  it  really 
magnificent  notices,  with  a  single  exception — he  dis- 
missed it  with  a  sneer.  But  I  didn't  make  any  money 
by  it — and  the  other  stuff  keeps  us.  I'm  not  proud  of 
being  a  serial  writer,  but  we've  got  to  live." 

"  I  think  you  ought  to  be  very  proud  indeed !  /'d  be 
very  proud  if  I  could  do  what  you're  doing.  I  have 
about  twopence  a  week  to  live  on,  and  I'm  spending 
twopence-halfpenny."  She  sighed.  "  And  I  can't  earn 
a  cent.  Anyhow,  what's  the  professional  distinction  be- 
tween writing  serials  and  writing  novels  ?  " 

"  Mrs.  Keith !  A  serial  is  pot-boiling,  and  a  novel's 
a  book." 

"Oh,  I  see!  Every  long  story  that  hasn't  cloth 
covers  is  a  *  pot-boiler  ' ;  and  every  long  story  that  has, 
is  called  a  *  novel.'  I  say,  I  do  wish  you'd  give  me 
a  few  hints — I  want  to  flatten  my  expenses  a  little. 
The  Hyders  are  quite  fair,  I  think;  but  I  don't  seem 
to  do  as  well  as  I  ought.  Do  you  go  to  the  trades- 
people yourself  ?  " 


288  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

"  Not  unless  I'm  obliged  to.  And  it  doesn't  matter 
here.  Perhaps  you  don't  order  so  well  as  you  might." 

"  How  do  you  mean  ?  I  order  a  joint,  and  eat  it  cold 
till  I'm  sick  of  seeing  it." 

"  Oh,  my  dear !  But  of  course,  I  know — I  used  to 
live  like  that  myself!  If  you  like,  I'll  show  you  my 
week's  bills — then  you'll  see  just  what  I  do." 

"You  are  a  trump!"  exclaimed  Betty.  "I'd  shine 
that  way  in  no  time.  But  I  expect  you  cater  more  ex- 
tensively than  I  do,  you  know — you  spend  a  lot  on 
frocks,  too,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Good  gracious,  no ! "  But  she  looked  highly 
delighted.  "  I  make  most  of  them  myself.  Why, 
your  mourning  must  have  cost  I  don't  know  how 
much!" 

"Oh,  well,"  said  Betty,  "but  I  don't  go  to  the 
same  places  now!  I  know  I'm  always  seeing  you  in 
new  things." 

"  Not  new  ones !  I  turn  them,  and  bring  a  blouse 
up  to  date,  when  I've  time." 

"  For  pity's  sake,  how  do  you  bring  a  blouse  up  to 
date?" 

"  Why,  the  sleeves  chiefly — it's  the  sleeves  that  are 
always  changing.  See  this  muslin  thing !  "  She  laughed 
gleefully.  "  This'll  be  its  fourth  summer.  The  sleeves 
hung  wide  at  the  wrists  the  first  year.  I  turned  them 
upside  down  the  next — took  the  wide  ends  up  to 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  289 

the  shoulder,  and  puffed  it  down  to  the  elbow,  and 
added  a  fitting  lace  sleeve  to  the  wrist.  Last  year, 
I  only  had  to  throw  away  the  lace  half  and  stick  on 
a  frill.  This  year,  I  stuck  on  an  embroidery  cuff  in- 
stead." 

Betty  contemplated  the  stars. 

"  And  next?  "  she  faltered. 

"  Next  year  I  shall  take  the  skirt,  and  what's  left 
of  the  blouse,  and  make  a  sweet  little  frock,  all  frills, 
for  Muriel." 

"  You  are  a  liberal  education ! "  said  Betty,  after  a 
long  pause.  "  You  may  have  a  piece  more  chocolate. 
When  may  I  come  and  study  those  bills  of  yours  ?  " 

And  there  was  nothing,  even  the  science  of  economy, 
that  Betty  wasn't  capable  of  mastering  if  she  bent  her 
mind  to  it. 

Another  scene :  after  the  scarlet  runners  flowered. 
In  this  scene  Mrs.  Norbury's  Frightful  Fault  was 
revealed,  and  Betty  received  an  Astounding  Object 
Lesson. 

It  was  announced  that  Mrs.  Norbury  was  going  to 
spend  twelve  pounds  on  clothes,  all  at  once ! 

"  But  I  thought  you  made  all  your  things  yourself, 
Madge?" 

"  Now  that's  a  nice  accusation !  "  complained  the 
other.  "  I  told  you  I  made  '  most  of  them  '  !  So  I  do 
— and  I  pat  myself  on  the  back  when  they're  done,  and 


290  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

while  I'm  wearing  them.  But — but,  dear — once  a  year 

I  give  myself  a  treat !  " 

"  The  creature's  human,"  said  Betty. 

"  I  go  shopping  up  West  with  fifteen  pounds — when 
I've  managed  to  save  it.  And  I  get  one  good,  well-cut 
costume.  Of  course,  no  furbelows — it's  the  cut  that 
gives  me  the  unholy  joy,  because  I  know  I'm  properly 
dressed.  Then  there  must  be  a  hat  to  go  with  it — the 
gloves,  the  silk  petticoat,  the  shoes,  the  stockings,  just 
a  complete  rig-out,  to  feel  happy  when  I  call  on  friends 
in  town,  and  to  impress  the  editors.  Now,  here  are 
some  patterns !  What  are  they  wearing  ?  And  where  do 
you  think  I  can  cut  down  the  prices  on  this  list?  Do 
help  me,  Betty !  This  year  I've  only  got  twelve  pounds 
to  fly  with !  " 

Betty,  as  adviser  upon  "  cutting  down  the  prices  " ! 
It  was  quickly  evident  that  there  was  no  experience 
to  be  drawn  upon.  But  goodwill  she  had,  and  her 
acute  intelligence,  and  the  thirst  to  learn — the  domin- 
ating purpose  that  was  already  dwarfing  hardships  and 
re-creating  her.  And  with  all  her  brain  she  worked! 
Both  women  worked — for  an  anxious  hour  and  a  half 
— reducing,  debating,  despairing.  And  finally  they  leant 
back  in  their  chairs  with  triumphant  smiles,  for  they 
had  solved  the  problem  with  eleven  pounds  nineteen 
and  sixpence! 

When  they  separated,  the  other  woman,  who  realised 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  291 

that  her  friend  must  have  once  shopped  lavishly,  said, 
"  You  have  been  a  brick!  I'm  afraid  my  trumpery  pur- 
chases must  have  bored  you  no  end." 

And  the  experience  had  taught  her  so  much  that, 
for  once  in  her  life,  Betty  stood  without  words  for  a 
reply.  She  simply  shook  her  head  at  the  other  woman, 
and  kissed  her. 

From  Lynch  personally  she  had  heard  nothing  since 
she  wrote  giving  him  this  address;  there  had  merely 
been  the  necessary  acknowledgment  from  his  solicitor. 
Nor  among  the  notices  of  the  art  exhibitions  had  she 
been  able  to  find  any  picture  of  her  husband's  men- 
tioned. But  for  a  solitary  letter  from  Dardy,  it  was  as 
if  the  world  had  been  left  behind.  The  stir  of  a  village 
woke  her  to  her  child,  the  scent  of  the  earth  gave  her 
greeting  when  she  rose,  the  night  wind  whispering  in 
the  fruit  trees  was  her  lullaby. 

Not  once  had  she  repented  the  choice  that  she  had 
made.  She  had  had  to  struggle  hard  in  these  three 
months,  but  the  struggle  had  been  to  eke  out  her 
means,  never  to  sustain  her  resolve.  She  knew  no  temp- 
tation to  abandon  it.  The  sun  broke  upon  it  and  the 
sun  set  upon  it,  and  the  moon  idealised  it,  dauntless 
and  unquenchable. 

And,  thanks  to  friendship,  the  struggle  had  grown 
less.  By  slow  degrees  it  had  become  needless  for  her 
to  consult  daily  the  items  and  prices  that  were  her 


292  THE   HOUSE    OF   LYNCH 

lesson  books.  And  by  slower  degrees  the  consciousness 
of  poverty  ceased  to  oppress  her.  There  were  many 
hours  in  which  enjoyment  was  supreme.  Not  the 
hours  in  which  she  trudged  beside  the  scarecrow  hire- 
ling, abject  to  all  beholders;  but  hours  of  a  mother's 
duties,  and  of  a  woman's  rest — when  the  flare  of  the 
scarlet  runners  had  paled  in  the  twilight — hours  of 
a  mother's  worship.  It  was  sweet  terror  to  strain 
towards  his  tottering  feet — breathless,  to  clutch  at 
him,  exultant,  when  he  had  almost  reached  her.  It  was 
a  new  miracle  to  mark  the  dawn  of  another  word  upon 
his  lips,  and  teach  him  the  word  that  he  was  to  say 
to  Keith. 

Under  the  window  the  plums  turned  purple.  The 
earliest  apples  ripened.  And  "  Ducksums,"  defying 
the  two  pounds  a  week,  had  grown  out  of  all  his 
petticoats. 

Mrs.  Norbury  viewed  a  heap  of  them  in  Betty's 
room  one  day,  and  said,  "  Why,  you've  got  enough  here 
for  half  a  dozen  children — you  don't  need  to  buy  any 
stuff  at  all!  You  can  chop  some  of  these  up  to  make 
the  alterations." 

"  Is  that  so  ?  Well,  that's  just  lovely !  But  I'm  such 
a  duffer,  I  don't  know  the  way !  "  exclaimed  Betty. 
And  the  next  moment  she  stared  at  the  landlady's 
daughter  approaching  with  an  orange-coloured  en- 
velope in  her  hand. 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  293 

"  Regret  to  inform  you  your  father  passed  away 
last  night  from  heart  failure.  No  pain.  By  his  instruc- 
tions, funeral  must  take  place  at  Greenwood  within 
five  days,  rendering  your  attendance  impossible.  I 
place  my  services  entirely  at  your  disposal.  Please 
cable  your  wishes,  and  accept  my  sincerest  condolence. 
— DORFMAN." 

"  Bad  news  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Norbury. 

"  My  father's  dead,"   said  Betty  chokily. 

And  her  head  went  down  on  the  other  woman's 
shoulder,  and  they  sat  so  for  a  long  time  without  a 
word. 


- 


XXII 

BY  and  by  she  sent  a  reply,  begging  the  lawyer  to  act 
for  her  in  her  absence.  She  cabled  from  the  little 
telegraph  office  next  door  to  the  hotel  where  she  had 
once  spent  such  blindly  happy  weeks.  But  she  shrank 
from  appealing  to  him  about  the  flowers  that  she 
wished  laid  on  the  grave.  About  those  she  cabled  to 
Dardy. 

On  the  morrow  came  another  message,  assuring  her 
that  all  should  be  done  as  the  dead  man  had  desired; 
and  after  that  was  silence. 

Mrs.  Norbury  had  said,  "  You'll  want  to  go  away  ? 
You  know  you  can  leave  Baby  with  me  ?  " 

"  I'm  sure  you'd  let  me !  But  I  shan't  be  going 
away — my  father  was  in  America ;  I  couldn't  get  there 
in  time.  I  feel  so  awful !  " 

"  I'm  sorry/' 

"  We  weren't  friends — that  makes  it  worse." 

"Poor  girl!" 

"  I'm  afraid  you  must  think  sometimes  I'm  very 
reserved  with  you?  I  daresay  you've  wondered?  But 

294 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  295 

I  can't  talk  about  my  affairs.  It  isn't  that  I'm  not 
fond  of  you,  Madge,  but  I  can't! " 

"  I've  never  thought  anything  of  the  kind.  I  haven't 
wondered  at  all  except " 

"Except  what?" 

"  Well,  you  told  me  your  husband  was  alive — I've 
wondered  sometimes  whether  you  got  on  together." 

"  No,  that's  right ;  we  didn't  get  on  together.  But 
it  wasn't  his  fault.  My  father  was  a  rich  man,  and 
my  husband  wasn't — and  I  was  extravagant.  That 
was  the  trouble.  But  I'm  going  to  do  better  next  time ! 
That's  why  I  want  to  know  things;  I  don't  want  to 
be  such  a  useless  fool  any  more." 

They  were  anxious  days  that  followed,  and  the  si- 
lent evenings  were  heavier  still.  Brooding  in  the  little 
lamp-lit  room,  or  pacing  the  narrow  path  in  the  dark- 
ness, she  faced  one  overwhelming  question.  The  fear 
of  the  millions,  of  the  vastness  of  their  responsibil- 
ity, weighted  her  soul.  "  You'll  be  one  of  the  richest 
women  on  earth !  "  She  quailed  at  the  thought.  All 
her  ambitions  were  absorbed  by  her  plan  for  happi- 
ness and  home — she  prayed  to  escape  the  burden  of 
this  complication  in  her  life. 

Her  mind  groped  among  conjectures.  Dick  must 
have  read  of  the  death;  he  pictured  her  in  New  York 
still!  But  if  this  mountain  of  wealth  descended  on 
her?  Then  she  could  no  longer  be  economising  un- 


296  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

known  in  a  village;  the  Press  of  America  and  Europe 
would  flame  with  her  relinquishment.  Must  he  learn 
her  whereabouts  then  ?  Would  he  come  to  her  ? 

She  said  to  her  friend  at  last,  "  I  wish  I  could  alter 
those  things  we  were  talking  about — it'd  give  me 
something  to  do  in  the  evening."  And  while  she  trem- 
bled before  the  magnitude  of  the  inheritance,  she  took 
a  lesson  in  lengthening  her  baby's  clothes. 

"  Not  so  fast !  "  she  pleaded.  "  Show  me !  I  want  to 
see  how  you  do  it,  I  want  to  learn !  " 

And  it  was,  "  All  right;  I'll  cut  out  a  pattern  of  the 
bodice.  .  .  .  Now  lay  it  on  the  material — I  should 
think  three  inches  all  round  would  do  for  him.  Now 
stick  in  the  pins !  .  .  .  Now  cut !  Not  so  close — you've 
got  to  think  of  the  turnings !  " 

Then,  hindering  the  thought  of  the  "  turnings,"  the 
news  of  the  millions  flashed. 

A  reference  to  the  funeral ;  next,  "  By  the  will  you 
inherit  everything  your  father  possessed,  which  I  esti- 
mate to  have  a  value  of  two  hundred  million  dollars. 
Your  presence  desirable.  I  await  your  instructions. — 
DORFMAN." 

Forty  million  pounds ! 

Two  Continents  were  talking  of  her.  Crowned 
Heads  would  flatter  her.  The  world  would  prostrate 
itself  before  her  feet.  The  woman  gazed  over  the  kitch- 
en garden  with  her  child's  "  mending  "  in  her  hand. 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  297 

The  work  was  postponed :  "  We'll  do  it  after  tea, 
Madge,  if  you  can  spare  the  time !  " 

She  was  left  to  her  thoughts,  and  to  her  answer.  For 
days  a  word  had  eluded  her.  "  Distribute "  ?  No ! 
She  borrowed  a  dictionary,  and  read  under  D  until 
"  Disintegrate  "  leapt  out. 

"  Ducksums  "  played  beside  her  while  she  scribbled, 
while  she  discarded  sheets  of  paper. 

The  cablegram  was  written.  She  read  it  through, 
her  baby  scrambling  in  her  lap — 

"  Make  immediate  formal  request  on  my  behalf  to 
President  of  Republic,  to  nominate  Committee  for  the 
purpose  of  administering  the  whole  of  my  father's  for- 
tune to  such  Charities,  American  and  European,  as 
they  think  deserving.  I  stipulate  that  the  whole  be  dis- 
posed of  within  two  years.  My  unalterable  intention  is 
that  the  fortune  be  disintegrated,  and  my  desire  is  as 
far  as  possible  to  benefit  all  those  who  have  suffered 
in  the  process  of  its  amassment.  With  these  excep- 
tions: Pay  promptly  ten  thousand  pounds  to  Joe  Du- 
plock,  Pear  Cottage,  Atherall,  near  Hammick,  Tun- 
bridge  Wells.  Fifty  thousand  pounds  to  Nurse  Em- 
ery, Fernando  Prospect  Sanatorium,  the  nurse  who  at- 
tended my  brother  daily  during  my  stay.  Fifty  thou- 
sand pounds  to  Madge  Norbury,  of  this  address.  Send 
all  documents  to  me  here  for  signature. — KEITH." 

Once  more,  she  pondered  if  these  three  gifts  were 
inconsistent  with  her  aim.  She  denied  it.  Throngs 
would  benefit  whom  the  Trust  had  never  harmed; 
among  them,  why  not  four  struggling  lives  whose 


298  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

worth  she  knew?  Truly  their  wants  could  have  been 
relieved  by  humbler  grants,  but  that  point  she  was  not 
the  woman  to  discern.  When  Betty  gave,  she  gave 
"  enough." 

Over  the  common,  unregarded,  she  went  with  her 
answer,  that  was  to  thrill  the  world. 

"  Six  pounds,  fifteen,"  said  the  clerk  in  charge. 

"So  much?"  she  exclaimed.  "I  don't  know  if  I 
have  it  here." 

"  There  are  a  hundred  and  thirty-five  words." 

"  Oh,  well," — she  emptied  the  purse, — "  it  has  to 
go!  Will  you  send  it  for  me  at  once,  please?" 

A  minute  she  lingered,  listening.  She  stood  gather- 
ing her  scanty  change,  as  the  apparatus  ticked  away 
her  millions  to  the  Poor:  no  girl,  swept  headlong  by 
an  impulse — a  woman  completing  a  resolve.  Her  stead- 
fast eyes  were  solemn  as  she  listened.  Her  mind  be- 
held the  ruin  of  the  dead  man's  earthly  hopes;  yet 
her  spirit  viewed  some  shadow  lifted  from  his  soul. 
If,  from  the  Infinite,  her  act  were  seen,  millions  looked 
lesser  there — and  pity,  most.  From  the  Great  Beyond, 
he  would  not  condemn. 

Peace  flooded  her  heart  as  she  turned  away.  Many 
a  still  evening  there  had  been,  the  same,  but  none  like 
it  unto  her.  The  flush  of  the  sky,  the  tenderness  of  the 
hour,  all  Nature  breathed  a  promise.  Care  was  behind 
— ahead,  the  sweet  fulfilment  of  her  plan!  Her  step 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  299 

was  buoyant  on  the  grass.  Clearer  than  the  village 
lights  that  sprang  into  the  gloaming,  she  saw  the 
light  of  Home.  Nearer  than  the  poverty  that  she  re- 
entered,  she  found  the  wealth  of  joy.  The  lamp-lit 
room  was  mean,  but  her  friend  was  in  it;  the  hill  had 
been  steep,  but  its  height  was  climbed. 

For  the  People,  her  husband,  and  her  boy — God, 
and  herself ! 

Back  to  the  lesson! 

"  Tack  it  together.  .  .  .  You've  got  the  shoulder 
seam  crooked.  .  .  .  That's  it.  That's  right.  Now — 
stitch!" 


XXIII 

IT  occurred  to  her  afterwards  that,  instead  of  "  on  my 
behalf  "  in  the  cablegram,  she  might  have  said,  "  for 
me,"  and  so  saved  a  shilling.  Probably  she  might  have 
saved  more  shillings  than  one!  She  had  just  resigned 
millions  cheerfully,  but  she  could  not  help  thinking  of 
that  six  pounds,  fifteen. 

It  annoyed  her  therefore  to  receive  a  reply  which 
put  her  to  further  expense — 

"  Most  earnestly  counsel  consideration.  The  course 
you  contemplate  is  open  to  you  always.  No  need  for 
haste.  Confer  with  me  before  you  act.  If  you  cannot 
come  here,  I  will  go  to  you." 

She  condensed  her  rejoinder  with  care,  and  it  ran — 

"  You  have  received  definite  instructions.  Please  ca- 
ble immediately  whether  you  will  fulfil  them." 

To  this  a  final  warning — 

"  Your  wishes  shall  be  obeyed.  Legal  formalities, 
however,  cannot  be  completed  before  two  months. 
After  that,  revocation  impossible." 

300 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  301 

She  did  not  know  whether  it  was  true  that  legal 
formalities  would  take  so  long,  or  whether  time  for 
consideration  was  being  discreetly  imposed  upon  her, 
but  she  resigned  herself  to  the  delay,  and  the  weeks 
stole  by. 

A  child  from  the  village  sauntered  no  more  into  the 
drowsy  garden  with  tidings  from  a  distant  land.  The 
woman  who  was  to  be  world-famous  during  a  nine 
days'  wonder  trod  the  roads  of  Rusthall  unremarked, 
and  continued  her  daily  parsimonies.  The  woman  who 
was  to  be  astounded  by  news  that  would  metamor- 
phose her  life,  continued  to  be  nurse,  author,  dress- 
maker, and  the  playmate  of  her  child.  The  colours  of 
the  common  changed  and  the  colours  of  the  garden, 
and,  one  by  one,  Ducksums'  petticoats  were  lengthened. 
But  in  the  routine  of  the  women  nothing  changed. 
Their  days  were  as  before. 

And  meanwhile,  as  Betty  had  supposed,  Keith  be- 
lieved her  to  be  still  in  New  York.  He  imagined  her 
sustained  by  Mrs.  Waldehast,  condoled  with  by  So- 
ciety, urged  by  confidants  more  strongly  than  ever  to 
sue  for  her  freedom.  He  had  been  prepared  for  her 
to  do  that  earlier,  and  given  thanks  for  the  silence. 
The  silence  hinted  that  some  feeling  for  him  remained. 
As  well  as  if  he  had  been  present,  he  knew  the  advice 
that  was  urged  upon  her — yet  she  struggled  against  it, 
she  would  not  agree  to  divorce  him. 


302  THE   HOUSE    OF   LYNCH 

Time  had  softened  his  memory  of  their  dissensions ; 
perhaps  the  joy  of  accomplishing  good  work  had  soft- 
ened it  even  more.  It  was  no  longer  for  his  bride 
alone  that  he  sorrowed — he  longed  also  for  his  wife. 
He  reproached  himself  for  harshness,  for  lack  of  pa- 
tience; sometimes  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  had  been 
merciless.  If  his  means  had  improved,  he  would  have 
written  to  her;  a  score  of  impulses  had  seized  him  to 
write,  even  as  it  was.  But  when  the  pen  was  in  his 
hand,  what  could  be  said  ?  She  had  drooped  under  the 
poverty,  and  he  was  still  as  poor.  Only  if  his  picture 
fulfilled  his  expectations  would  there  be  anything  to 
say.  If  "  The  Harbour  of  Souls  "  succeeded,  he  would 
implore  her  to  return ! 

Not  to  effect  a  reunion  had  he  begun  the  picture — 
the  man  was  an  artist,  and  he  painted  because  he  must 
— but  he  had  thought  of  her  homecoming  when  he  set 
his  palette  in  the  early  morning,  and  he  had  thought 
of  her  homecoming  when  he  washed  his  brushes  at 
the  close  of  day.  And  while  the  picture  grew — while 
every  mail  might  bring  the  news  he  dreaded,  and 
every  mail  still  withheld  it — Keith  had  trembled  for 
the  result  of  that  contention  in  New  York,  the  conten- 
tion in  which  unknown  people  fought  against  his 
dearest  hope. 

Then  the  hope  had  been  slain  by  other  means:  he 
had  read  of  her  brother's  death,  and  of  her  father's — 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  303 

and  he  fancied  his  wife  reigning  in  the  great  house 
that  she  had  quitted,  mistress  of  the  colossal  fortune 
that  she  meant  to  sign  away.  And,  in  spite  of  this, 
the  canvas  had  claimed  him  still.  The  picture  of  the 
homecoming  had  faded,  but  the  picture  on  the  easel 
had  progressed.  He  had  painted  through  every  hour 
of  light,  painted,  and  painted  out,  and  painted  again. 
And  now  the  work  of  ten  months  was  finished,  and 
the  victory  that  he  had  prayed  for  all  his  life  had  come. 
"  The  Harbour  of  Souls "  had  been  bought  by  the 
Chantrey  Bequest — on  Keith  had  been  bestowed  the 
highest  recognition  that  can  be  granted  to  any  painter 
in  England.  And,  being  an  artist,  he  exulted;  and, 
being  a  man,  he  mourned.  From  the  summit  of  success 
he  raised  his  arms  to  wife  and  child,  to  make  the  joy 
complete. 

Redirected  from  Telemachus  Mansions,  a  letter  was 
delivered  at  the  studio.  And  the  first  words  startled 
him,  and  he  turned  to  the  signature — and  the  signa- 
ture was  strange,  and  he  read  the  first  words  again — 

"  DEAR  SIR, — Since  I  came  back  with  Mrs.  Keith 
from  America  in  April,  Mother  has  been  ailing,  and  I 
have  been  keeping  house  for  Father  in  Felixstowe. 
But  now  I  am  going  to  take  a  place  again,  and  I 
should  be  much  obliged  if  Mrs.  Keith  would  kindly 
send  the  Character  she  promised.  The  lady  that  I  am 
going  to  has  written  to  Rusthall,  but  her  letter  was  re- 
turned from  3  Fuchsia  Terrace,  marked  *  Gone  Away/ 


3o4  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

so  I  am  taking  the  liberty  of  writing  to  you,  hoping 
you  will  send  this  on  to  Mrs.  Keith  if  she  is  not  at 
home.  Hoping  Baby  is  well. — Yours  respectfully, 

"  HARRIET  FRY." 

The  nurse !  And  Betty  had  "  come  back  in  April  "  ! 
His  mind  ran  riot.  What  could  it  mean  except 
that 

But  why  strive  to  conjecture  what  it  meant  when  he 
might  be  able  to  ask  her,  face  to  face!  Rusthall!  Per- 
haps she  was  in  Rusthall  now?  At  least  he  should 
contrive  to  find  her!  He  crushed  the  letter  in  his 
pocket,  and  sped  down  the  flights  of  steps. 

Among  the  decayed  four-wheelers  on  the  hopeless 
Foundling  rank,  a  mouldering  hansom  stood. 

"  Charing  Cross — as  quick  as  you  can  go !  "  he  cried. 
And  its  quickest  was  a  crawl  to  his  impatience,  and 
he  beat  the  stuffy  cushion  with  his  fist. 

And  while  he  leant  over  the  doors  of  the  doddering 
cab,  a  placard  struck  his  senses  and  the  wonder  of  the 
hour  was  hurled. 

"  Lynch's  Daughter  Gives  Up  Her  Fortune !  " 

As  he  jumped,  the  board  was  passed. 

"  Forty  Millions  To  The  Poor !  "  The  proclamation 
fluttered  at  a  street  corner,  strident  voices  yelled  it  to 
the  crowd. 

"  Stop !  "  he  called,  and  a  grimy  hand  shoved  even- 
ing papers  to  his  clutch. 


THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH  305 

"  This  is  a  bit  of  all  right,  guv'nor  ?  "  exclaimed  the 
vagrant.  "  Gord  bless  the  lady !  " 

"  God  bless  the  lady ! "  echoed  her  husband. 
"  There's  a  sovereign — keep  the  change." 

"  Strike  me  pink,  the  world's  gone  barmy !  "  gasped 
the  man,  and  the  cab  jerked  on. 

But  the  lines  were  few ;  just  the  sensational  fact  was 
cabled:  "  Lynch's  Daughter  Gives  Up  Her  Fortune!  " 
That  was  all,  but  that  \vas  everywhere.  Contents  bills 
blazoned  it,  newsboys  bellowed  it,  London  resounded 
with  her  deed.  At  the  station  he  seized  more  papers, 
in  the  hope  of  learning  where  she  was,  and  scanned 
them  while  he  waited  for  his  train.  No  hint ! 

In  the  compartment,  all  the  men  were  talking  of  her. 
The  journey  among  strangers  chattering  her  name 
seemed  eternal.  If  it  failed?  He  hungered  to  discover 
her.  He  wanted  to  kneel  at  her  feet,  to  bow  his  head 
on  her  knees.  He  famined  to  reach  her.  And  she  might 
not  be  in  England,  after  all !  Perhaps  while  his  nerves 
strained  for  Rusthall,  she  was  looking  from  a  window 
in  New  York? 

Tunbridge  Wells  at  last!  In  the  twilight,  he  was 
rattled  over  the  road  on  which  they  used  to  stroll  to- 
gether to  the  Pantiles,  past  the  walls  of  the  hotel  where 
they  had  stayed.  Fuchsia  Terrace  was  unfamiliar; 
when  the  stoppage  of  the  fly  announced  it,  his  throat 
grew  tight  that  she  had  known  its  ignominy. 


306  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

A  slattern  advanced,  with  a  trail  of  unhealthy 
children. 

"Is  Mrs.  Keith  here?" 

"Mrs.  Keith?"  She  tossed  a  frowzy  head.  "Oh 
no!" 

"She  did  lodge  here,  didn't  she?" 

"  Mrs.  Keith  left  months  ago." 

"Do  you  happen  to  know  where  she  went?  I'm 
very  anxious  to  find  her.  It's  most  important  that  I 
should  see  her  at  once." 

"  I  couldn't  say,  I'm  sure." 

"  Can  you  tell  me  if  she  is  still  in  Rusthall?  " 

"  I  couldn't  say,  I'm  sure,"  repeated  the  woman. 

He  brought  out  some  shillings  and  rejoiced  the  un- 
healthy children,  none  of  whom  said  "  Thank  you." 

The  woman  hesitated. 

"  I  couldn't  say  for  rights  where  she's  staying,  but 
I've  seen  her  about,  once  or  twice,  since  she  left  me." 

"Lately?" 

"  I  suppose  the  last  time  I  see  her  might  ha'  been  a 
fortnight  ago." 

"  Thank  you  very  much !  " 

He  rushed  back  to  the  fly,  and  told  the  man  to  drive 
to  the  post  office.  At  the  post  office,  he  astonished  the 
girl  at  the  desk  by  taking  off  his  hat  to  her.  Could  she 
favour  him  with  the  address  of  a  lady  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood named  Mrs.  Keith? 


THE   HOUSE    OF   LYNCH  307 

"Mrs.  Richard  Keith?" 

"  Mrs.  Richard  Keith !  "  he  stammered. 

"  She's  living  at  Hyder's — over  there,  the  house  by 
the  poplars,"  said  the  girl  graciously,  and  was  sorry 
that  the  gentleman  went  out  in  such  a  hurry. 

By  the  poplars,  a  high  gate;  through  the  gate,  a 
darksome  path.  Six  strides,  and  he  had  reached  the 
door. 

"Mrs.  Keith?" 

"Who  shall  I  say,  sir?" 

" '  Her  husband/  please,"  he  answered.  And  a  girl 
beyond  cried,  "  Mrs.  Keith's  in  the  drawing-room, 
mother !  "  He  was  left  standing  in  the  porch. 

Into  the  light  of  the  little  hall  a  lady  hastened,  with 
friendly,  smiling  eyes. 

"  Your  wife  just  went  upstairs,  Mr.  Keith,"  she 
said ;  "  I'll  show  you  the  way." 

"  I  shall  be  grateful." 

But,  instead  of  inviting  him  to  enter,  the  lady  led 
him  round  the  house  to  a  kitchen  garden.  And  at  a 
stair-head  was  an  open  window,  shining  yellow  on  the 
night. 

"  Your  wife's  up  there,"  she  murmured,  and  was 
gone. 

He  mustn't  frighten  her!  The  thought  thrust  him 
back  in  time. 

"  Betty !  "  he  whispered,  trembling. 


3o8  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

Only  the  fruit  boughs  rustled  in  the  breeze. 

"  Betty !  "  he  called.  And  a  figure  came  between  the 
lamp-glow  and  the  dusk. 

"Betty!" 

It  was  Her  wondering  face  that  bent  in  the  dark- 
ness !  It  was  Her  wondering  voice  that  broke  with  his 
name! 

She  flung  out  her  hands  to  him. 

And  he  stumbled  up  the  staircase  and  caught  her 
in  his  arms. 

And  afterwards  he  didn't  know  what  he  had  said, 
or  what  she  had  said  in  the  first  few  moments,  but, 
"  If  you  go  on  being  so  penitent,  I  shall  begin  to  think 
you  must  have  treated  me  very  badly ! "  she  was  smil- 
ing. And  love  and  girlhood  were  in  her  smile,  and 
her  dimple  was  sunning  in  her  cheek.  And  would  any 
other  woman,  with  big  tears  splashing,  have  laughed, 
"  I  always  did  stroke  your  hair  the  wrong  way,  didn't 
I?  You've  got  to  put  up  with  it?  " 

Then  she  was  exclaiming,  "  I've  got  so  much  to  tell 
you,  but  I  can't  get  a  word  in  sideways!  How  did 
you  find  me?  " 

And  when  he  began  to  say  how  he  had  found  her, 
memories  sprang,  interrupting — and  called  other  mem- 
ories— and  he  had  to  begin  again — 

«  Nurse " 

"  Dickie !  " — she  beat  feeble  hands  on  him — "  why 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  309 

do  you  keep  saying  '  Nurse '  ?  What  has  nurse  got  to 
do  with  it?" 

"  She  wrote  to  me— she  wants  a  '  Character/  and 
doesn't  know  where  you  are.  But  she  said  you  had 
gone  to  Rusthall." 

"  Oh !  Now  you're  rewarded  for  not  sending  her 
away  when  you  wanted  to — look  how  nice  it  is  for 
you !  Yes  ?  Well  ?  Go  on,  tell  me  all !  Oh,  if  you  were 
a  woman  you'd  have  told  me  everything  in  ten  sec- 
onds— everything  that  has  happened  to  you — only  you 
couldn't  have  told  me  anything  that  was  half  so  lovely 
to  hear!  Go  on,  Dickie;  never  mind  what  you  say — 
just  hold  me  tight  and  talk !  " 

"  I  got  her  letter  this  afternoon,  and  I  tumbled  into 
a  cab;  and  on  the  way  to  Charing  Cress  I  saw  the 
news,  what  you've  done " 

"You  know?" 

"  Know?  All  London's  shouting  it!  And  I  stopped 
the  cab  to  get  a  paper,  and  the  man  said,  '  God 
bless  the  lady,'  and  7  said,  '  God  bless  the  lady/ 

and — and It  is  '  God  bless  the  lady ' !  Betty, 

you're  an  Angel!  You're  the  greatest  woman  on 
earth!" 

"  O — oh,"  she  cooed.  "  And  then,  and  then,  and 
then?  Well?" 

"  Well,  then  I  went  to  Fuchsia  Terrace. — My  heart, 
what  a  place  for  you !  How  could  you  go  there,  kiddy  ? 


3io  THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH 
— And  she  told  me  she  had  seen  you  since  you  left; 
and  I  went  to  the  post  office,  and  they  gave  me 
your  address,  and Betty,  has  it  been  very  aw- 
ful for  you?  You've  been  living  on  that  hundred  a 
a  year?  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  what  you  were 
doing?" 

"  My !  "  she  mocked  him  with  dismay ;  "  that  re- 
minds me — you've  come  much  too  soon;  you're  all 
'  out  of  the  picture ' ;  I  meant  to  be  here  for  a  year 
before  you  knew  what  I  was  doing!  I  ought  to  send 
you  away  again.  I'm  learning  to  be  a  proper  wife  to 
you!  Dardy  said  I  couldn't,  but  I  am.  How  do  you 

suppose  that  Baby's Well ! "   Her  radiant   face 

grimaced  at  him.  "  You're  a  fine  father,  you  haven't 
asked  about  your  son  yet !  " 

"  How's  our  son,  my  wife?  " 

"  How  is  he  ?  He  is  unique.  He's  asleep  in  there. 
Come  and  look !  " 

They  crept  to  the  cot,  and  stood  silent.  After  a 
minute  she  whispered,  "  He  can  walk !  He  topples 
sometimes,  but  no  other  baby  ever  toppled  so  well." 
Next,  "  Come  back,  or  we  shall  wake  him !  ...  I've 
got  something  to  tell  you.  How  do  you  suppose  his 
clothes  have  been  made  big  enough?  I  did  them  my- 
self, to  save  buying  new  ones.  A  woman  downstairs 
showed  me  how — I'm  just  great  at  altering  clothes 
to-day !  "  She  popped  a  pink  finger  to  his  lips :  "  I 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  311 

don't  know  if  the  needle  has  roughened  my  finger 
for  you — feel !  " 

And  then  Miss  Hyder  appeared  with  a  potato  pie; 
and  Betty  whispered  to  him,  "  If  I  had  known  I'd  have 
company  to  supper,  I'd  have  saved  some  rice  pudding !  " 

He  watched  her  cut  the  loaf.  She  cut  it  with  amaz- 
ing skill — and  chid  him  for  "  daintiness  "  because  he 
was  so  sick  with  love  that  he  couldn't  eat.  But  she 
was  no  better  herself. 

On  the  path  where  he  had  called  to  her  the  moon 
shone  now,  and  from  their  chairs  the  kitchen  garden 
was  enchanted.  She  wanted  to  hear  how  it  was  that 
he  hadn't  "  come  in  at  the  door,  like  anybody  else," 
and  laughter  rippled  when  he  told  her  of  his  guide. 
"  There  was  the  touch  of  the  dramatist  about  that — 
she  writes  plays,  you  know!  What  are  you  painting 
now,  Dickie  ?  How's  the  work  ?  " 

"  Sweetheart,"  he  answered,  "  take  some  potato  pie 
— it's  your  last  chance !  " 

Her  chair  fell  back,  she  was  beside  him  in  a  flash, 
her  hands  on  his  shoulders :  "  What  have  you  done  ?  " 

"  I've  finished  '  The  Harbour  of  Souls.'  " 

For  an  instant,  though  her  lips  smiled,  her  gaze 
was  wistful — she  hadn't  been  there  to  see! 

"Good?"  she  faltered. 

"  Sold  for  a  thousand  guineas !  " 

"  A  thousand  guineas  ?  Not  Vivard  ?  " 


3i2  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

"  The  Chantrey  Bequest !  " 

"  Dick !  "  No  shade  on  her  rapture  now — she  clung 
to  him,  breathless,  eager,  triumphant.  It  was  the  mo- 
ment of  his  life,  and  hers.  "  The  '  Chantrey  Bequest ' 
means  fame?  " 

"  It  means  the  biggest  thing  that  could  possibly 
have  happened  to  us!  They've  invited  me  to  exhibit 
it  at  the  Academy  next  year.  The  public'll  say  it's 
magnificent,  incomprehensible,  or  rotten;  but  they'll 
flock  to  see  it,  and  they'll  talk  about  it,  because  the 
Chantrey  Bequest  has  bought  it.  From  the  Academy 
it'll  go  to  the  permanent  collection  at  the  Tate  Gal- 
lery." 

"  Permanent  ?  When  Baby  grows  up  ?  " 

"  Always — it's  bought  for  England,  it's  the  property 
of  the  Nation !  "  Tears  sprang  to  his  eyes.  "  My  God, 
I'm  proud  of  the  honour!  And  yet,  when  I  think  of 
yours,  this  thing  that  7  have  done  seems  too  petty 
to  talk  about.  But  it  isn't  the  honour  only,  loveliest, 
it  means  the  end  of  the  struggle,  it  means  I'm  '  made.' 
After  this,  my  prices  are  whatever  I  choose  to  ask. 
I  can  give  you  a  pretty  home,  and  peace  of  mind.  I 
can  take  you  away  from  here  to-morrow  morning — 
to  London,  Paris,  Rome,  wherever  you'd  like  to  go. 
If  I  painted  more  quickly,  we  could  have  six  or  seven 
thousand  a  year  now;  even  doing  my  best  work,  we 
can  be  sure  of  three  or  four.  You've  only  to  say  what 


THE  HOUSE  OF  LYNCH  313 

you  want  to  make  you  quite  happy — only  tell  me  what 
I'm  to  do!" 

"  You  are  to  do — your  best  work,"  she  told  him. 
"  That's  what  we're  going  to  live  for,  Dickie,  to  do 
our  best!  Oh,  I  am  glad  for  you,  glad,  glad!  Yes, 
you  shall  take  me  early  to-morrow,  and  the  first  thing 
I'm  to  see  is  your  picture.  Talk  to  me  about  it!  When 
did  you  begin  it — how  long  ago?" 

"  I  began  it  soon  after  you  went.  And  I've  been 
at  work  on  it  ever  since." 

"  How  did  you  manage,  Dick — you've  been  hard 
up?" 

"  About  two  bob  a  day — I  did  a  sketch  now  and 
then  to  keep  me  going,  but  I  didn't  do  many — I 
couldn't  spare  the  time.  And  I  thought  of  you  while 
I  was  painting — I  meant  to  beg  you  to  come  home 
if  I  made  a  hit.  And  all  the  time,  I  was  afraid  of  the 
mail!" 

"The  mail?" 

"  Afraid  they'd  persuade  you  to  get  rid  of  me  be- 
fore the  thing  was  done." 

"  Oh,  my  dear,"  she  moaned,  clinging  to  him,  "  my 
dear!" 

"  All  the  time  I  thought  of  you,  Betty,  I  wanted 
you  so  much,  my  love!  If  I  had  guessed!  Tell  me, 
what  do  you  do  here — you've  no  nurse  at  all  ?  " 

"  I've  Queenie." 


314  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

"Who's  Queenie?" 

"  She's  a  child  who  comes  to  wheel  Baby's  carriage 
for  me.  She's  about  fourteen,  but  it  doesn't  seem  to 
be  too  heavy  for  her,  and  she's  very  elated  by  the 
eighteenpence  a  week.  We  go  out  every  morning  and 
afternoon  if  it's  fine.  Sometimes  we  go  to  the  Happy 
Valley." 

"  My  poor  little  girl !  " 

"  No,  you  aren't  to  say  that ;  it  hasn't  been  so  rough 
as  you  think !  I've  got  quite  used  to  it.  There's  always 
something  to  do,  to  keep  me  from  being  dull,  and  it 
doesn't  seem  a  rush  any  more,  as  it  did  at  the  start. 
When  I  come  back,  there's  dinner,  and  then  Baby  goes 
to  sleep.  And  then  we  play,  and  go  for  another  walk 
— I  think  I  like  our  afternoon  walks  best.  I've  found 
such  pretty  bits,  I'd  like  to  show  you!  Then  there's 
tea.  And  I  give  him  his  bath.  And  after  supper " 

The  landlady's  daughter  knocked  again,  with  a  bas- 
ket of  clean  washing. 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Keith,  Mrs.  Tobitt  says  would  you  very 
kindly  oblige  her  with  the  money  to-night,  instead  of 
on  Monday?  " 

"What,  this  week  too?"  said  Betty  gaily.  "Oh, 
that  husband  of  hers!  Will  you  wait  while  I  count 
them,  then,  Miss  Hyder?  You  might  clear  away  while 
I'm  doing  it,  please." 

Wondering,  he  saw  her  lift  the  things  on  to  the 


THE   HOUSE   OF   LYNCH  315 

sofa,  and  arrange  them  in  neat  little  stacks,  and  com- 
pare them  with  the  list.  As  naturally  as  if  she  had 
been  doing  it  all  her  life,  she  checked  the  bill,  and 
produced  two  and  ninepence,  and  pencilled  in  the  book 
that  a  pair  of  Baby's  socks  was  missing.  Amazement 
possessed  him  as  he  watched  her. 

"  And  after  supper,"  she  went  on,  as  if  nothing 
had  happened,  when  they  were  alone,  "  I've  got  his 
frocks  to  mend.  I'm  terribly  vain  of  mending  frocks! 
And  there's  my  friend  downstairs — we  sit  on  those 
steps  and  talk  every  evening,  before  we  go  to  bed. 
It's  so  beautifully  still;  there  isn't  a  sound,  except 
a  church-clock  that  chimes  protectively.  I — I  don't 
know "  She  looked  round,  hesitating.  "  Don't  im- 
agine I  won't  enjoy  a  good  time  on  the  Continent, 
but  I'm  not  sure  I'm  so  keen  on  saying  '  good-bye ' 
to  all  this  in  quite  such  a  hurry.  I'd  like  to  go  and 
feast  on  your  picture  before  breakfast  to-morrow,  but 
don't  you  think  we  might  come  back  for  two  or  three 
days?" 

"  You  want  to  ?  "  he  asked,  marvelling. 

"If  you  won't  think  it  silly?  It's  difficult  to  put 

into  words,  but You  see  this  has  been  my  home 

for  a  long  while,  and  I've  felt  so  much  here !  "  Her 
voice  trembled.  "  I'd  like  time  to — to  look  at  it,  and 
look  back  at  it,  before  I  go.  Tisn't  that  I  don't  want 
to  go  to  you,  my  love.  It's  because  I  love  you,  because 


316  THE    HOUSE    OF    LYNCH 

I've  tried  so  hard  to  be  better  for  you  here,  that  the 

place  means  so  much  to  me." 

"  Kiddy !  "  he  said  chokily.  Her  palm  lay  upturned 
in  her  lap,  and  his  hand  closed  on  it. 

"You  don't  mind?" 

"  It's  what  I'd  choose !  7'd  like  to  go  with  you  for 
the  walks — '  Queenie  '  shall  take  us  all.  I'd  like  to  watch 
you  while  you  sew  the  things,  I'd  like  to  live  just  the 
life  that  you've  been  living,  my  dearest  dear!  Never 
mind  how  long — even  if  it's  only  a  few  days,  it'll  al- 
ways make  the  time  we've  been  apart  seem  shorter  to 
me  afterwards." 

"  That's  what  I  thought,"  she  murmured — "  we 
shall  have  been  together  here.  And  we  couldn't  be 
more  than  happy  anywhere!" 

So  they  saw  "  happiness  " — to  be  together. 


THE   END 


£    <" 


»       -       r^^<s-Yv>  ^  o 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


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